Hello

  Lesley Graham lives in Bordeaux where she is a lecturer at the university. She is originally from Scotland and started writing poetry relatively recently.

      Red Sky in the Morning Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight, Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning. Country proverb Our family does weddings. When Rosalie married, first time round, and the cars assembled for the drive, it was in fact a...

      Meeting a Fig Tree I know a fig tree walks in beauty singing a fair song as soon as my heart beats. She uses elevators & electric stairs. People are astonished by her actions, but she doesn't even bother to argue with them. She is very busy...

      Hermitage Halfway within the sheltering woods you found yourself. The hut is an egg, gate of emptiness, closed and open. The four walls: passion and joy, fire and silence. A touch of ashes, smell of paper, sound of shadows. Like God, the Guest,...

      A Jar of Starfish You may think it’s because there’s so little room, but I believe we are holding each other so we don’t forget the way water holds us. At first glance, you may be forgiven for thinking us Autumn leaves – a crisped selection of...

      Addressing Sylvia Plath’s Fan Club You will need four hundred items in the stew of her: cumin, lemon, colocynth, bitter apple, lime, broccoli to get the aftertaste she would want in your memory. Mix half the ingredients, the dry, dyed ingredients,...

    Sonnet for My Fat Took my pain, buried it in buttercream. Unboxed, licked off the top, Masticated each grain into saline, let my bloodstream drip-feed membranes their acid-fat. In bed, I dream of fingers probing pleats of grief tissue. They peel back the...

        Mymona is a Bengali-British writer and teacher based in Newcastle upon Tyne. Her writing has been featured in the Ilkley Literature Festival and longlisted for the Butchers’ Dog. She’s a core member of the collective Brown Girls Write and...

    Let that love show When all is quiet save for the silky rustling of an autumn breeze let that love show. When your patience is darkness-dappled and as weary as an exhausted scholar let that love show. When you’re disappointed to learn that trestle...

    Red Kite Mrs. Hooping helped with my coursework since Mr. Smith lived on pizza boxes. Found rocking a dead pigeon on the cardboard, now he's back at his mum's, auditioning to be a postman. Witnessed a Red Kite in my underwear drawer from our session in...

      I want to wake up like they do in films   no puffy eyes that blink to find the dawn foreclosed again behind those wretched blinds you bought but sunlight streaming in through impractically curtainless windows; my skin, made-up in golden...