Today’s choice

Previous poems

Helen Finney

 

 

 

The Perseids at Bannau Brycheiniog

At my feet the window sprawls a view of kneaded land,
craggy baked by the hand of the gods, dusted green
with short bit grass. A sheep walks by
along the grey faded road, pitted with age,
worn tired with wear.

Last night I’d lain upon the ground late after dark, the warmth
of the day held beneath me, to await the heaven’s shower.
While all slept but the owl that called, the tears of St Lawrence
wept in the sky, lines of silver silked the black blue,
tacking space to the earth, sewing us into the universe.

 

With an MA in Fine Art, Helen Finney spent most of her life working as a fine artist in Swansea; however, recently her practice has taken her more towards writing. She has been published in Ink, Sweat & Tears, Poetry Wales, Dreich Mag, Gyroscope Review and elsewhere. She has released four collections of poetry.

Bob King

The first wristwatch was first worn
in 1810, despite what old turn-it-up
Flintstones episodes might have you
believe.

Brandon Arnold

Alone, I drive along the midnight, winter road. My left hand at the 12 o’clock position of the steering wheel. And I coast. I let out the day’s long breath, which started out today as a sigh.

Steph Ellen Feeney

My mother is here, and might not have been,
so I hold things tighter:
the small-getting-smaller of her
running with my daughter down the beach . . .

Jo Eades

It’s Wednesday and / again / I’m laying pages of newspaper on the kitchen table / tipping up the food waste bin /