Unspilled
Midnight strikes London’s moon face,
the new year cheered in with a sip
of sparkling wine, and time’s old friends.
Forty years of Auld Lang Syne in our bones,
we dance and laugh as our great-grandparents
danced and laughed, as our children
will come to jig and giggle.
Their youth now pours our fizz then
through faster-flowing veins: ghosts
in every bubble, every bubble
a gasp sharp with life.
Sarah James is a prize-winning poet, fiction writer and journalist. Her latest collections are plenty-fish (Nine Arches Press, 2015) and The Magnetic Diaries (KFS, 2015), highly commended in the Forward Prizes. Her website is www.sarah-james.co.uk and she runs V. Press.
shall I call this waiting for snow
snowflakes formed in clouds
usually take about half an hour
to reach the ground
be ready for them
wear diamond tread soles
spread bicycles out on patios
let them take on another interesting shape
before they melt
if only to soften their fall
know they are coming
offer your tongue
Laura McKee hasn’t put the sprouts on yet. In other news this year, she was shortlisted for the Bridport Prize, and nominated for Best Single Poem in the Forward Prizes. She also had a poem chosen to be on a bus for the Guernsey Literary Festival.