Today’s choice

Previous poems

Daniel Hill

 

 

 

Pollarding
An ancient art of tree management, in which the top branches of trees are removed
to promote dense new growth, provide light to the understory & fodder for animals.

On her first day home, she took
to plucking the sky with tweezers—
latched on to clouds and waited

for their let-down. She must’ve known
it should please us just to see her
new, blue eyes shine through

the rain. It didn’t, so she spat up
on the earth and summoned vines
of bindweed to wind around our chests.

When she still had no success, she drew
an axe and hacked halfway up our necks
to send our heads toppling

into rabbit warrens. Lopped,
we sent out fragile shoots
and watched the understory

thriving below.

 

 

Daniel Hill is a Welsh poet living in Hertfordshire. His debut pamphlet is forthcoming with The Wildheart Press in May 2026. Instagram: hill_daniel_

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The waft of toxicity as I run it on empty for ten minutes
is a welcome distraction.

Bob King

The first wristwatch was first worn
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Flintstones episodes might have you
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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 /