Churchyard Maybe this wind knows something we don’t, daddy; a secret it hugs close and won’t share as it blows across the village churchyard and the vicar firms the edge of the freshly dug hole with her wellington boot, opens the labelled canister and tips you in. It’s the plastic Evian bottle that throws … Continue reading ‘Churchyard’ by Sue Hubbard
Tag: Poetry Society
‘Chez Marianne’ by Cliff Yates
In the next apartment the children are quieter, soon they’ll run a bath and one of them will lie in it, moving. She comes out of the bathroom, her hair standing, shaped to a point like an alien. Are you cold? No, I’m airing the towels. That’s a good idea, here, which of … Continue reading ‘Chez Marianne’ by Cliff Yates
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