The People We Meet In Dreams The man from the town centre post office bangs your door in a ruby cape mouthing the whereabouts of The Prowler, and then is gone, down to the shudder of the village stream, where they are all scattered on the brink of a public hanging. Not that you are you and he is him exactly, but there’s always the … Continue reading ‘The People We Meet in Dreams’ by Miranda Yates
First Days of Winter Trees blue and leafless, a doily of frost forms on the front lawn, first peelings of ice on pathways, winter coats stiff and reluctant. Words, chipped from frozen thoughts, disappear in a blur of breath, as movements slow and bony fingers burrow into gloves. Shoes, now too big for curled toes, skate on polished tiles and soft, summer bodies totter … Continue reading Two poems by Maurice Devitt
Dyslexia A hard thing to explain to an eight year old. How to lift from everything we know a clutch of truths by which he’ll be consoled. I keep to what it doesn’t mean, name the famous cases. Hard to answer no when he asks quietly, Are you the same? (from The Probabilities of Balance Smiths Knoll, 2010) Sun Dogs When … Continue reading Two poems by Stephen Payne
In a disused game-keeper’s hut A stream dashes past in a deep cleft. From inside, all you hear is the waterfall. Dark as the garden at night, a mesh covers the grimy window. No-one will guess. She sweeps the dust, runs outside to gasp. It settles back like the things she’s heard said. She pokes feathers she’s found into cracks between planks. Outside, a jay … Continue reading ‘In a disused game-keeper’s hut’ by Rebecca Gethin
Pedicurist Textbook arches to calloused toes gnarled as root ginger come my way – scholar of the lotus foot, the hennaed sole – to be soaked in basins of salted water. Pumiced, clipped; anointed with lavender or bergamot. My head bowed low to my work. A connoisseur; hands awake to each detail. Come bedtime, a whispered litany of bone and muscle – distal phalanges, … Continue reading Three poems by Stephen Bone
Uncle Ted and I are window-shopping on the internet. I say there’s nothing you can’t buy remotely and suggest Costco, send him the link. I tell him that the padding’s good, point out it’s comforting and solid; for him, only the best. He sends me a link to Amazon: a pine affair, plain wood. It does look flimsy though, and only this morning … Continue reading ‘Internet Shopping’ by Jacqueline Saphra
And Other Poems 