Two poems by Fiona Moore
In our Hearts By the old hospital the mini-cab drivers still say, everyone says, though there’s no hospital now except in the mind, only a high dark blue hoarding with Homes and Communities Agency stencilled in white, along with A new heart for East Greenwich. The demolition’s long finished and the vast space is closed by double metal gates, where today an object glints in … Continue reading Two poems by Fiona Moore