‘The Fox and the Gravestone’ by Emily Blewitt

  It was like a story I read. A fox became trapped between two gravestones. She struggled and corkscrewed but her muscles swelled up. She was stuck. Couldn’t budge. The air in her lungs became thin. She shook like a frightened rabbit. She was photographed, petted. Children snatched at her coat. She bit them away. She’d not be drawn out. Then it got worse. It … Continue reading ‘The Fox and the Gravestone’ by Emily Blewitt

Two poems by Yvonne Reddick

    Translating Mountains from the Gaelic A pebble on the tongue – my clumsy mouth stumbles their meanings: I mumble Beinn Laoghail to Ben Loyal, Beinn Uais to Ben Wyvis, humble Beinn Artair from King Arthur’s Hill to The Cobbler – turn Bod an Deamhain from Demon’s Penis to Devil’s Point, stammer on An Teallach with its rearing anvils and arduous spelling, my throat … Continue reading Two poems by Yvonne Reddick

Two poems by Polly Atkin

  Imaging We can’t say for certain how long it had been there before we found it, masked by the hulk of the wardrobe, our own poor perception, its creeping rapidity, the weak radiation of winter light – its circular messages breaching the paper that glossed its scribblings over so many blinkered moons. It lived in our midst, clandestine. We slept together. It breathed in … Continue reading Two poems by Polly Atkin

‘Amy, how to write poems’ by Katherine Stansfield

Amy, how to write poems for Amy McCauley again in these times of boxes and unlearnt languages and cats dreaming twitchyleg distress? I do what the advice books say and write every day but lately o lately my poems are just lists for leaving: buy new cat carriers, microchip the cats, tell the cats about THE MOVE. The flats behind ours have been knocked down … Continue reading ‘Amy, how to write poems’ by Katherine Stansfield

‘Citizenship Ceremony’ by Caroline Smith

Citizenship Ceremony Every few months a timetable clash means the Citizenship Ceremony and the asylum surgery converge. From outside the council chamber, as each new citizen is made, we can hear the patter of applause. It is rain to parched, thirsty soil – every head turns and lifts towards the sound.     (from The Immigration Handbook, Seren 2016)       Caroline Smith, works … Continue reading ‘Citizenship Ceremony’ by Caroline Smith

‘Letter to my Mother’ by Katrina Naomi

Letter to my Mother You lie underneath him, a measure of mud between you. This was our final argument – his and mine – your husband/my step-father. I’m told of a double headstone, which I haven’t visited, since I held my niece’s hand, threw a lily and a tablespoon of chalky soil on your lid. I can’t talk to you, knowing he’s also there, listening, … Continue reading ‘Letter to my Mother’ by Katrina Naomi