Kayleigh Jayshree

Kayleigh Jayshree

The Moth Poem The Moth Poem She sees the little lost one everywhere, eyes on the dead moths curled on her windowsill. I see what was: rosy maple moths like Batternbergs on her fingertips, A weaver’s wave moth in the countryside the day she broke down and I...
Marc Woodward

Marc Woodward

    When Joe Went Out Late to shut away the poultry after weeks of rain he knew where the pony was by the sound of its hooves sucking in the mud.Foxes still kill in downpours. Maybe they keep closer to the bones of the hedge or loiter below hollies, but...
Someone Else’s War

Someone Else’s War

  Someone else’s war i.m Stephen Dunford The city is a distorted limb that didn’t grow this way. Crepe paper twisted, steel softened to liquorice. I never got to ask you. Do hares hide when bombs fall? When bayonets are thrust against the wind does the air...