Today’s choice

Previous poems

Kate Hendry

 

 

 

Burning the Years

Lay down the worst ones –
raze them like swathes
of heather on the moor.

So what if there’s a dead patch.
Remember the havoc
unfettered fire makes –

flames twirl along the ridge,
tumble down the gorge.
Unbreathable heat and ash.

So burn those years
till there’s a dead plot of earth
and disaster’s spurned.

Behind you – safe beds of moss.
Ahead – untouched mounds
of rush like stepping stones.

Spin in the steam and smoke,
jump on the blackened years
sprung like a dance hall floor.

 

 

Kate Hendry‘s poems have been widely published in magazines, including PN Review, The Rialto and Poetry Wales. Her first pamphlet, The Lost Original, was published by Happenstance Press. Her second, MX SIMP (Mariscat Press) was shortlisted for the 2023 Michael Marks Awards.

Julian Dobson

Street after street, ears bright to bass and tune
of two thudding feet, gradients of breathing. But rain

is brooding. Sparse headlights, ambient drone
of cars kissing tarmac, merging

Oliver Comins

Working the land on good days, after Easter,
people would hear the breaks occur at school,
children calling as they ran into the playground,
familiar skipping rhymes rising from the babble.

George Turner

Some days, the privilege of living isn’t enough.
The weight of the kettle is unbearable. You leave the teabag
forlorn in the mug, unpoured.

Clive Donovan

If I were a ghost
I think I would shrink
and perch on wooden poles
and deco shades – get a good view
of what I am supposed to be haunting

Seán Street

There was a time when I took my radio
into the night wood and tuned its pyracantha
needle along the dial through noise jungles
to silent darkness at the waveband’s end.