Sally Spiers

      Windless Day Night’s white noise is over. Day arises to stillness. Light crouches behind windows, presses through chinks. Dawn’s chorus conceals a speck of silence that casts a shadow stretching vast across the floor. Double-checking in the cereal...

Louella Lester

    Unnatural Migration When Mom flew off with the Canada geese you made me promise that we would never leave one another. Ever. I wanted to protect you, even though you were an irritating baby sister who I had to bribe with candy and pop, so I could hang...

Tim Brookes

      Flock In the charity shop I try on a coat flocked with fake shearling, shaved-soft almost: fibres fired onto plastic to fool the wrist. At home I snap it. A dust of fur lifts, hangs, then drifts onto the draining board, the bulb, the bruised...

Helen Akers

      Window of tolerance we’re trying to construct a frame for this highly reactive impulsive emotion the nurse is looking into it     meanwhile we must find something cold to hold    lick it we’re trying to expand the tolerance – think of a moth...