Izzy circle


slick pavement, these shining live silver scales
making the streetlights shy, hiding behind hands
shadows breathe around corners and in doorways

the moon pushes back the clouds, clamouring to see
as the concrete cracks and opens its maw –
why does cracking concrete always remind me of teeth? –
leaves crumple and drop like brown paper bags
the ground swells with wet dirt and rotting tree-flesh

I walk in quiet and calm and the damp dark holds my hand
folding me back into this stricken soil as the cold rolls in


Sarah circle


Sarah’s poem today is in audio form, and is shamelessly inspired by the ‘Poims’ of Sandy Nicholson, who you should check out on the Youtubes because he is magnificent.



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