Today’s choice
Previous poems
Gill Horitz
Cyclamen
I woke to workers with blades
along the verge, yellow-jacketed
to signify contracted rights
to hack and scythe died-back
bracken and living saplings
to a brown shrivel.
What a story to be part of,
forlorn in the telling
of nature diminished
by men being masterful.
But remember their look
before the blades,
petals of quiet white
circle a deeper plot.
John Grey
it’s more
of a gathering
than a town
Antony Dunn
Have you heard the one about
how I’m hoping to bow out –
playing guitar for the Cure
Alex Scarborough
I measure distance in Spotify playlists
so I can’t be trusted with maps.
Myra Schneider
Forget the invisible network of servers which stores
and manages or mismanages data in the unending sky
far above our heads . . .
Sef
The body is not solid. The body is almost perfect.
Jon Miller
The upper floor of the old byre
a darkness made of owl-stare—
its blink drinks you in.
Salvatore Difalco
No green swell this evening
will detach me from my hat.
Annah Atane
That night,
the stars had slept. The wind
silent as something dying.
Jake Roberts
hamlet asked it to the dark night sea
where do waters end and i begin