Two poems by Susan Utting
The Bathers of the Ladies’ Pond Each day before they slip their frocks and stockings off and naked, slide like knives through satin water, one by one they shake the chestnut trees and wait for any peeping Tom or Dick to drop like plums and scamper bruised and red-faced through the scratching hedge or squeeze their awkward bodies out between the fence posts and the … Continue reading Two poems by Susan Utting