Today’s choice
Previous poems
Nigel King
Aquamarine
My compass – its needle set with a sliver of blue stone – spins and spins. Breath mists my snow
goggles. I wipe them endlessly. Even in these thick seal-skin mitts my hands are frozen. I have been
no place as still as this. As white. Beneath my feet, there’s yard upon yard of ice, and below it,
black water flowing. Sharks, old before I was born, coast in mile-wide circles, hunting skate, cod,
wolffish, or scavenging the bodies of whales. Sea lillies filter-feed, anchored on wrecks. I leave a
trail of sparkling footprints, a track from nowhere to nowhere. The ship is far off, with whoever’s
left of my companions. My vision blurs in the endless glare. Is that a bird soaring in the distance, or
a floater drifting across my retina? The needle spins on. All directions are the same. I choose one
anyway.
Nigel King lives in Huddersfield, where he is a member of the long-running Albert Poets group. He recently completed a Master’s in Creative Writing at MMU. His Pamphlet, What I Love About Daleks, was published by Calder Valley Poetry.
Peter Wallis
Dead in a chest,
are folded matinee jackets, bonnets, bootees and mitts.
Tissue sighs like the sea at Lowestoft,
always Third week in August
Amanda Bell
We clipped a window through the currant, sat on folding chairs with keep-cups,
wrapped in blankets as we yelled through the prescribed two-metre gap.
Then took to mending – darning socks and patching favourite denims
Anna Maughan
Illness had left me
brittle as frost, icicle-thin
swaddled in borrowed warmth
Angeliki Ampelogianni
on marble tiles bird like
I am a pin measuring drops in the toilet bowl
A W Earl
Doors
My parents’ house became a place of closed white doors,
where sound hung spare and echoes found no junk
or clutter to rest themselves upon.
Finola Scott
Winter dusk soughs in, dark
clouds threaten, tangle her wool.
Huw Gwynn-Jones
Black is the colour inside black light on
blackened brick and slats
Clare Morris
Necessity, that scold’s bridle, held her humble and mean,
So that she no longer spoke, just looked –
Her world reduced to a search for special offers . . .
Alison Jones
Mrs Norris had thought ascension
would be whirligig rides in bright violet rays,
as the training books all implied.