Today’s choice

Previous poems

Sarah James/Leavesley

 

 

 

A mouthful of stones

The sister I don’t have
has pockets bulging
with silver-foiled chocolate
and popping candy, rustling-
wrapped strawberry surprises
and infinite packets
of unopened love hearts.

She leaves me the pocket
full of stones, ones my mum
won’t be able to smooth

to marble or polish like sea glass.
Ones my dad will throw
to the waves in hope,
only for them to sink
instead of skim.

My parents will weigh me down
with rocks to stop
my flying off too.

I’ll learn to weigh myself
against her
and kiss the cold water.

 

 

Sarah James/Leavesley is a prize-winning poet, fiction writer, journalist and photographer. Latest collections include Darling Blue (Indigo Dreams), an ekphrastic book-length poetry narrative which won the Geoff Stevens Memorial Poetry Prize 2024, and Blood Sugar, Sex, Magic (Verve Poetry Press). Website: http://www.sarah-james.co.uk.

Jenny Scoones

We unlearn how it felt to touch
And resume our separate days in shirts and trousers,
Like hazmats against the sun and its longing,
The moon with its underbelly pulls.
 

Janet Hatherley

      In my cookery exam, we have to prepare a family meal This is summer and Mum can’t put out her trot line with its hooks because of swimmers so I buy three mackerel from the fishmonger. I cycle to the school bus stop one arm on the handlebar,...