Today’s choice

Previous poems

Yvonne Baker

like snow 

an etherial whiteness
that covers and disguises

as a strip of white frosted glass
conceals an interior

or spray from lorry wheels
obliterates the road

*

the nets across windows
blurred reality in childhood

pale curtain-light enclosed
the room with mystery

likewise Victorians filtered
the world with lace curtains

*

in the carwash the suds roll
down the windscreen

and we two small people
are inside the snow-dome

where in this moment
flakes of sky are falling outside

*

it’s easy to trust the magic of snow
as it blanches winter trees

allows a grey scratch of grasses
to push through fragile crystals

to forget that cold kills even
as it embraces with sleep
 
 
Yvonne Baker has received awards from Cinnamon Press for her pamphlet Tree Light and collection Love Haunts in Shades of Blue. Recent publications are Backwards, Forwards across the Sea (2024) and Light Still, Light Turning (2025)  https://cinnamonpress.com/poetry/

Eve Chancellor

    Payday Mid-afternoon and the streets smell of petrichor; people spilling out of pubs, crowding to smoke cigs in the early spring sunshine. I am alone, again. All my friends live thousands of miles away. I am closer to the people who are not near me...

Fiona Heatlie

  Planet Nine You talk to me intently of black holes. I slip my hand into yours, unnoticed. You are absorbed in thoughts astronomical. I am stealing time. Swallowed by a constellation of brighter stars and suddenly you are on the cusp of the cusp of a place where...

Hongwei Bao

    Night Market   When the night curtain falls, the crowd start to assemble as if drawn by magnets, as if answering a scared call. Neon lights go up along the narrow pavements, illuminating the concentrating faces of food-sellers. Under boiling noodle...

Darren Deeks

You have been burgled.
While you were out with the dog,
a burglar made best use of that
yawning kitchen keyhole to spook
through tracelessly