‘Clearing Out Mum’ by Julia Webb

Clearing Out Mum It’s like unreeling yards and yards of tangled wire, or finding mice in an attic you never even knew you had. It’s like the wash-off, run-through, bleed-right hours of sorting. It’s like squirreling backwards, or finding yourself back in the town that you spent years getting out of. It’s like a thousand keys without a lock, (or a thousand locks without a … Continue reading ‘Clearing Out Mum’ by Julia Webb

Three poems by Victoria Kennefick

Rib I have visited your grave many times expecting to find you tending your plot, maybe with a shovel or a strimmer, turning your handsomely-lined face towards the sun. In Kilmahon cemetery, wild garlic excretes a heavy smell. White bonnets bob at your wooden cross, embarrassed to show their faces, roots grown so deep. Reflected in the bronze plaque, my borrowed face, my something blue. … Continue reading Three poems by Victoria Kennefick