Three poems by Patrick Deeley

Precursor Tetrapod hardly covers it, old boy or girl coming out of the sea. Tetrapod, four-foot, accurate but basic as the mud in my mind’s eye you’re treading. Amphibian then, since you take a fresh element, the shelf of land, cumbersomely on, all to do in your warty green skin. Newt might fit, or giant newt, as you lay down a track-way of footprints that … Continue reading Three poems by Patrick Deeley