Today’s choice

Previous poems

Iris Anne Lewis

 

 

 

A moonless night when lanterns are shuttered

The track leads through thickets, threaded with eyes.
Elusive scraps of dreams, they gleam, flicker out.

Long dead stars pierce the canopy
with pinpricks of white, cold and exact.

I stumble through woods, the path
thick with leafmould, my footsteps muffled.

Something unseen scuttles in the undergrowth.
A harsh bark, owls’ wings brush the air.

Night retreats, dawn flushes the sky. The sun
splashes through trees, braids dark with light.

Leaves cast dancing shade on the path. I walk on,
the woods lit green and singing.

 

 

 

Iris Anne Lewis is widely published. Featured in Black Bough Poetry and Poetry Wales she has won or been placed in many competitions. Her first collection Amber is available from Amazon or contact her on @irisannelewis.bskysocial or X @irisannelewis.

Bill Greenwell

Before the first turn of the key, before
adjusting the mirror, before releasing the handbrake even,
Dad said: there are two things you need to know.

Gabriel Moreno

It’s hard to say what he did, my father.
His shoulders portaged crates,
he captained boats in the night,
chocolate eggs would appear
which smelt of ChefChaouen.