Two poems by Mark Fiddes
An Early Swim She cuts down her lane like scissors through blue silk with barely a snip; her deft turn at each end is a stitch. One morning, she will rise from the ladder, the pool draped over her shoulders like a cape of kingfishers. He rolls like a barrel of vintage port cast overboard, his crawl Shakespearean in its comedy and slaughter … Continue reading Two poems by Mark Fiddes