Si Mack

    Pressed Flower I start nicking her daisies as if they’re sunlight plunging forward up the cracked garden path, plucking handfuls to stuff in my pockets, so I might press them in-between the dry paragraphs of a heavy book kept at the bottom of a...

Patrick B. Osada

      Lilies of the Valley At four or five they gave to me A bed of Granddad’s un-worked land Between the shed and garden path And end-stopped by the water butt. The old man helped me dig and plant. Next Spring I watched the leaves unfurl, The buds...