Patrick Deeley

  Sean’s Ghost leans over the garden wall next the hairpin bend to hand me a rosy apple with the same gesture he himself showed of a stumblebum evening when I was a child making my way home after a bad day at school. Though the apple holds no substance now, and...

Sophia Argyris

  HERONLESS I look for him from the foot bridge    he’s not in any of his usual places not mid-stream in shallows           not below the arch under the road not at the corner on a stony outcrop       the fishes are swimming undeterred and the day feels so...

Jessica Mookherjee

      Second Generation Upgrade I take an invisible dog on holiday to the coast, with raven feather tied to my hair and a new iphone in my bag, my passport is ready for a quick get away, and I must look a sight in these snow-boots and sunset skin. I ask...

Dane Holt

          Dane Holt’s poems have been published in Poetry Ireland Review, The Trumpet, The White Review, Stand, bath magg, One Hand Clapping , Anthropocene and elsewhere. He is poetry editor of The Tangerine, a Belfast magazine of new...

Kate Venables

      A Strange Madeleine  My paternal grandfather was a dentist and set up his practice before the First World War in his parents’ home at 222 Linthorpe Road in Middlesbrough. The house had a workshop at the bottom of the garden for the dental...

Jean O’Brien

      The Arrow that Flies by Day (Psalm 91) To my first readers I present fragments, half- rhymes, vowels, words, somewhere a metronome beats time and we split the line into syllables, metric feet, then come the myths and metaphors, music sounds near....