<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Snowgrip<\/strong><\/p>\n The snow has come its inches of icing Under blanket and dressing gown with shovels They scrape away cold scraps I feel friction in the window pane I and my cats assess Above us, countless flakes until slowly <\/p>\n <\/p>\n David Van-Cauter<\/strong> is a personal tutor and editor from Hitchin, Herts.In 2017 he was runner-up in the Bradford on Avon festival competition and highly commended in the Bare Fiction competition. He was shortlisted for the last IS&T Cafe Writers Commission.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n THE WINTER HERONS OF LOCH SCRIDAIN <\/strong> Like deft officials of some secret order working on The Bigger Plan. drown in the dry; when their majesties stretch out into true form; <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Seth Crook<\/strong> loves puffins, has taught philosophy at various universities, rarely leaves Mull. His poems have most recently appeared this autumn in The Rialto, Envoi, The Interpreter’s House, Poetry Scotland<\/em>, in the Noble Dissent<\/em> (Beautiful Dragons) and Landfall<\/em> (Federation of Scottish Writers) anthologies.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n battery dead watching the snow<\/strong><\/p>\n thinking how I was missing out three days before and turned a wave anyway I tried <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Laura McKee<\/strong> has some serious boots for the snow. Her poems can be found in journals including Under the Radar, Prole, The Rialto, Molly Bloom, <\/em>and Pouch<\/em>. You can contact her on Twitter: @Estlinin.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Snowgrip The snow has come my car wedged in its inches of icing pockmarked with bird tracks Under blanket and dressing gown I watch others graft with shovels enabling my escape They scrape away cold scraps hack at raw earth I feel friction in the window pane and through the net I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[82],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15362","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-twelve-days-of-christmas-2017"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15362","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15362"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15362\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15365,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15362\/revisions\/15365"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15362"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15362"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15362"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nmy car wedged in<\/p>\n
\npockmarked with bird tracks<\/p>\n
\nI watch others graft<\/p>\n
\nenabling my escape<\/p>\n
\nhack at raw earth<\/p>\n
\nand through the net<\/p>\n
\nthe pickings of the day<\/p>\n
\nbreathe in a holding shape<\/p>\n
\nthey release their brakes<\/p>\n
\nDON’T BELIEVE IN GOODWILL TO ALL MEN <\/strong>
\nOR WOMEN (OR NON-BINARIES OR WHATEVER)<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nAs if all will be revealed, but only on the final Boxing Day,
\nwhen the loch drains away, seals flop, crabs scuttle, moored boats<\/p>\n
\nwhen we glimpse, at last, the point of the beaky plot–shout
\n“Oh God, No!”, look for holes of hope in their mesh, flap like sprats.<\/p>\n
\non a slomo film<\/p>\n
\nI had found out I could do this<\/p>\n
\ninto a slow waggle of fingers<\/p>\n
\nto just slow it down with my eyes<\/p>\n