Today’s choice

Previous poems

Regina Weinert

by | Oct 12, 2026 | ,

 

 

 

Shared Attic

A key on a short string unlocks
a metal door to an unlit stair, steep
wooden steps, a turn at the top

where you can’t see back. We’re in The Gods.
A warren on the right, murk-bound filaments
of light strike coal briquettes, a broom lurks.

On the left, a breathless empty stage,
unsettled dust, the roof’s raw underside.
We unwind our frayed washing rope.

The drying floor is warm like baking,
the rafters smell of vanilla, sweeter
where diamonds of sunlight magnify the grain.

The skylights are half-closed, the traffic hums
and drums. My mother has a far-away look.
I offer her pegs from a bowl.

There’s room up here to hang the bedding,
she straightens all the edges. I slink along
a corridor of sheets, not touching.

 

 

Regina Weinert lives in Sheffield. She has had a university career in language and linguistics. Her poems are also published by e.g. Magma, The North, Pennine Platform, Poetry Salzburg Review, Stand, Under the Radar and Wild Court.

Nairn Kennedy

by | Aug 3, 2026 | ,

You notice the nose: webbed veins spritzed
with little flicks of red, purple blotches
daubed with a palette-knife, broken ends
where blood-vessels gave up the ghost.

Mark McDonnell

by | Aug 1, 2026 | ,

Fascinated by the priest’s teeth I don’t realise
I’m kicking the pew in front with a restless foot
until someone taps me sharply on the knee.

Sylvia Banham

by | Jul 28, 2026 | ,

Pigeons have invaded the garden, two then four, then a flock.
They roost in the apple tree to nest, reconnoitre or mate
 
ignore my sorties to deter them and shit without stint
on patio and herb bed, foul lovely hyssop and thyme.