Today’s choice

Previous poems

L Kiew

 

 

 

Brine

I leave everything on shingle,
meet surf like a sibling,
crest over playful breakers
and chase the moon’s tail.
There was salt in my kisses.
It preserved us for a while,
resisted the putrefaction.
Skin on sea-stained sheets.

My mind’s water, the wind
changing direction over it.
With knickers around knees,
I squeeze out our last.
Cold presses stones
into cheeks. A whip of air.
Fog congests the cove,
crusts spittle onto lips.

 

 

A chinese-malaysian in London, L Kiew works as a charity leader and accountant. Her pamphlet The Unquiet was published by Offord Road Books (2019). L Kiew’s first collection More than Weeds was published by Nine Arches Press (2023). Website www.lhhkiew.co.uk

Tim Dwyer

      Shedding Annamakerrig It begins high up the chestnut tree with leaves on the twigs on the tips of branches where sap has slowed. Turning amber carried by the breeze they touch the earth, rest on the grass where autumn begins   Tim...

Sandra Noel

The sea happens to me today

not because I’m the woman in the bakers
brusque turned rude
or the peaches              still hard in the bowl

Grace Lynn

Sunlight saunters in long, thin wires through the fallow field
of my bedroom. You approach, a migrating heron
in a runny yolk collar and suntanned shorts, a white-light emissary
of hope. . .

Miriam Swales

I’m waiting for news I don’t want to talk about
and scrolling through old photos to escape.
After some swipes, I see you walking away.

Adam Horovitz

We cannot update you yet, other than to say we are caught
in a doldrums between stations and that your father can wait
as he has been waiting these past two years . . .