The Renault rocks left to right, waddles up an unmade road, squeezes through the trees.

I’m looking through a lattice of magnolia 

not yet ready to blow open its thousand furring buds—
every year the same urgency—

I like soft grass, the sort you see
in early spring sprouting from
improbable interstices,

Our family does weddings.
When Rosalie married, first time round,
and the cars assembled for the drive,
it was in fact a lovely sunrise…

I know a fig tree walks in beauty singing a fair song as soon as my heart beats.
She uses elevators & electric stairs

Halfway within
the sheltering woods
you found yourself.

we are holding each other so we don’t forget
the way water holds us.

You will need four hundred items in the stew of her:
cumin, lemon, colocynth, bitter apple, lime, broccoli
to get the aftertaste she would want in your memory.

– Sue Spiers

It took years to piece events
together; hushed voices, evasions,
or little glances…

– Mike Huett

Took my pain, buried it in buttercream.
Unboxed, licked off the top, Masticated
each grain into saline, let my bloodstream
drip-feed membranes their acid-fat. In bed,

-Zeeshan Choudhury

consists of tiny pink erasers,
safety pins, shirt buttons and the odd
butterfly clip.

-Emma Lara Jones