Anne Bailey

      One side of a conversation over breakfast The flowers, no they were petals, were suspended over my head. I think they were singing a quiet song to themselves. They were white, each one in its own space. They were stationary but fluttering. I was...

Carla Scarano D’Antonio

      Imaginarium ‘I am a smiling woman’ Sylvia Plath, Lady Lazarus And it came to me that stones, trees and water live in a circle trace their souls stain the landscape, it’s a luxury you can lead your life without choosing and yet determined to leave...

Bryan Marshall

      Some Crows So little happens that I tell you everything twice. The crow, I swear, followed my eye behind the door, knew to leave me something delicate and silver. Another crow, a different one, I swear, took up with its beak some chant or other,...

Gareth Writer-Davies

      Purblind & Font in the odds ‘n’ ends drawer one might find what one is looking for amongst the biros and string purblind spectacles you might find anything half-remembered by the mind’s claw lemon rind what the hell was that for? there must...

Chris Kinsey

      Walking the Ring Road A sprig of hawthorn brushes away gritty city miles – back to gran banishing me and may blossom from the house – Smell of death. Smell of death. I’m running back to the trees clouding the field edge, burrowing up from the...