Today’s choice
Previous poems
Tim Dwyer
Balancing
On the pitch of the roof
a jackdaw holds a twig
longer than its wingspan—
do corvids feel pride?
Balancing the weight,
the bird shuttles
from rooftop to rooftop
to join its partner.
They fly together
beyond my view
where their spring nest
is crafted.
Tim Dwyer’s debut full collection, Accepting The Call (templarpoetry.com), has won the Straid Collection Award. His poetry has appeared in Irish, UK and international journals and anthologies. Originally from Brooklyn, NY, he lives in Bangor, Northern Ireland.
Rob A. Mackenzie
Everything is moving. I have to remind myself
it’s a flat canvas and behind it a wall that’s solid
as I am.
Melanie Branton
A vixen or a reason. A
rave. No air, no sex, nor
Charlotte Oliver
On a bench outside Next,
a punctured woman
traces circles in the air with
a pale finger
Peter Devonald
He is bitterest regrets,
dark chocolate, olives and kale,
The Telegraph and Magritte’s
pipe, the treachery of images.
Anne Ryland
Restless two-hundred-year-old village elder,
a ragged playground of words, or is it weeds –
fragments of chant to slaps of skipping rope.
Colin Dardis
I have never climbed a tree,
never broken a bone
and will never walk on water.
May Garner
The house keeps score
in places no one checks any longer.
Sally Spiers
Night’s white noise is over. Day arises
to stillness. Light crouches behind windows
Tim Brookes
In the charity shop I try on a coat
flocked with fake shearling,
shaved-soft almost: fibres
fired onto plastic to fool the wrist.