Benjamin Norris

Janus the morning brought sheets of grazing snows fighting for feet amidst memory of spring at times like these the promise of hope is a seasonal shift, an answering mind brought on winds which whip themselves east and cough over tracks. I see bones under skin and...

Ruth Stacey

Little Corpses Never walk on a frozen lake. It may appear as thick as your arm But the silent water deceives with places Of thinness, beneath bridges and where trees Slant over; the eager crack and quick swallow- No little corpses under the ice. Never play on the...

David Cooke reviews Esther Morgan’s ‘Grace’

Esther Morgan: Grace. Bloodaxe Books.  2011. ISBN: 9781852249182.  £8.95. Esther Morgan’s enigmatically entitled third collection, Grace, was a Poetry Book Society recommendation and was shortlisted for the T.S. Eliot Prize.  It also contains her Bridport winning poem...

Robert Harding

Idyll I went to escape the urban solitude, To escape the perpetual flaneurship, the dogged ‘outsider’ mantle I was made from. I should’ve said grow up you child, you’re a writer What did you expect? And the people there, in the countryside were like,...

Cathleen Allyn Conway

Filling the Ghost Position I make him who I wanted him to be. I build him from memory and from other people: a pick-and-mix of George Clooney’s hair and Kenneth Branagh’s chin. I sometimes shop locally if the produce is available: I once bought a used copy of D. H....