English Fern You are coiled like an easy spring, like a wild green tongue. Your roots are strong and deeper than winter. Has anything changed? My eyes are still bluebells. Here is this mossy place. Most Foul Licking her lips, she drips the pearls of poison in and fills my ear. We … Continue reading Two poems by Ailsa Holland
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Two poems by Michael Scott
My Dad painted by Francis Bacon Oxford Heart Centre – Critical Care Unit Someone off stage, drags him by the hair, his face smudged upwards – chin tilted, fish hooked lip, gumshield and tubes smeared left to right. Behind, digital blinks monitor oncoming strokes. I stare, eyes shut, open to a … Continue reading Two poems by Michael Scott
Two poems by Penelope Shuttle
Long Man The Long Man holds open house at Wilmington, the Downs are his backyard, his walking poles know their way home, they know where the best blackberries grow - not far from Heaven Farm, not far from The Lavender Line, the shadow village of Ripe, he won’t share them with me, though the … Continue reading Two poems by Penelope Shuttle
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