Amanda Bell

  Spindles   We clipped a window through the currant, sat on folding chairs with keep-cups, wrapped in blankets as we yelled through the prescribed two-metre gap. Then took to mending – darning socks and patching favourite denims, exchanging threads in...

Anna Maughan

  Finland, December 2015 Illness had left me brittle as frost, icicle-thin swaddled in borrowed warmth that couldn’t keep out the wind’s chill, prying fingers, shivering in at every edge. The lake, frozen, feet-thick, immense, swathed in drifts of...

Angeliki Ampelogianni

  Eating figs on the bathroom floor         on marble tiles bird like I am a pin measuring drops in the toilet bowl disembogued into this locked space with depressions of earth staring at me the bathroom keeps the history of my enclosures fake windows chewing up...

A W Earl

  Doors My parents’ house became a place of closed white doors, where sound hung spare and echoes found no junk or clutter to rest themselves upon. You move quietly, in a house like that, learn side-feet, stop-breath, corner-pause, learn to turn reverberating...

Finola Scott

      Homecoming Winter dusk soughs in, dark clouds threaten, tangle her wool. She sets down his heavy gansy, the jumper finished at last. A memory, that memory, sharp as now, catches her. Him so handsome on the shore that night, her so forgetful...

Huw Gwynn-Jones

      Black on Black Black is the colour inside      black light   on blackened brick and slats       coaldust  and creosote     those sightless eyes     black as his  coalman’s  vest  and   grimy    coalbent back deep in a shed where he stacks cold...