Today’s choice

Previous poems

H.J. Thomas

 

 

 

Black Cherry Ice Cream

We ate it leaning against the rail
above the harbour –
black cherry,
melting down the cone
faster than we could catch it.

And you laughed,
mouth red,
sunlight flaring in your lashes.

I watched the boats move below us –
slow beasts with canvas wings –
and thought:
this is joy.

Not fireworks,
not promises,
not certainty.

Just you,
offering me a bite
from your side
of the cone.

And the sweetness –
sharp and floral,
ripe as August before it turns.

 

H.J. Thomas is a poet based in Durham, UK. His work explores grief, queerness, and hope. He is working on his first collection, still here, and a second, Songs of Vancouver Island. Previously unpublished.

Tom Blake

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or to put it simply never out.

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Die. You’re soon reduced to a photograph.
Lugubrious Co-op undertakers will zip you in a bag
and keep you cold . . .

Jasmine Gibbs

This morning – Blackstar,
Bowie, those jazz swan songs
sputtering from the CD player,
wild trumpets that convulse
through negative space