Lesley Burt

Shell-like either – a conch found in hot white sand on the shoreline at Sanur Beach a Fibonacci whorl among morning offerings – left with reverence lapped by ripples – while bright boats with sails proclaiming Bintang Beer ferry tourists across the reef to the roll...

Annie Acre

Solarpolar i am sun-shot / green-beamed / stem-steep / hands cupfuls of heartlines / conjuring water / my face light-dialled / hair wild / screaming beauty & i am root-retched / soiled-deep / dirt-dark / legs spindly – lost maplines / petering earth / my thirst...

Jennifer Cole

      My Precious Holding your cooling hand, bedside, they said I had better take your wedding ring or it might get “disappeared” its fading ghost now a mere shadow on my finger. So it hangs with mine – twin markers round my neck – chained together to...

Eithne Longstaff

      Ulster Museum (26th July 2025) After ‘The Supper at Emmaus’ by Caravaggio On the road to Belfast today, I failed to recognise my father. I saw a flamingo by the Tamnnamore turn off, but paid little regard as it took off, legs stretched out behind...

Mark O’Connor

        The Piano The last thing cleared from my Late parents’ house Was the piano. At half a tonne in weight It was like the anchor – This thing that kept us all Together; Without it, the tide came And carried us away.     Mark...

Michael Mintrom

      A Map of Old Battles They lie deep in a forest, wounds unseen, unhealed. Further back, an escarpment with dark scars. Visiting, perhaps you expected something tactile, something to hold, markers of exact terrain, key sites on paper or cowhide. Who...