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Category / Poetry / The Clearing
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Two New Poems by William Thompson
I’ve seen everything there is to see:
the ancient hammerheads; -
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Nature Writing by Jeremy Hughes
You see your childhood in your green-leafed head.
Sticklebacks and newts in a stringed glass jar -
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The painter’s chair / Attending by Fiona Sampson
like a new
thought or like
the curlew’s
call that
doublejoints
across the Sound -
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Dear Kadu by Pam Zinneman-Hope
At the beach we hunt
among Jurassic clays and shales
scanning and sifting the Charmouth shingle,
searching the shoreline.
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A Chiffchaff Sings by Martin Maudsley
And I thought to myself:
He has seen nearly a century of seasons –
Fresh flowers, leathery leaves, ripe fruit.
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Six New Poems by Daril Bentley
The profession and art of direction
as by flash of fish in the sea.
How flawless synchronized swimming
in the air is done. -
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Threads, a community poem
Red, it’s my colour,
the cuffs rippling in the wind,
Hung lazily off an arm.
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Robin Walter reads Arbor Vitae
Robin Walter reads his poem Arbor Vitae.
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At the Very End of the Road by Phillip Edwards, an extract
…fine nebulae of plovers high above loose weavings of lapwings above tighter sprays of redshanks…
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A Pink and A Blue Field and A Form by Mark Goodwin
we stride across
a snow-rosy
crust our steps -
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Hiraeth and Hwyl: Backwater Boy by Manoel de Barros (translated by Malcolm K McNee)
My grandpa courted the solitude.
He was a bouquet of lonesomeness. -
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Hiraeth and Hwyl: Vanish by Kathy Miles
Maps are useless now, in a world of blinded
signs. Mountains pull up roots, drift away
to the vanishing point like wandering erratics.
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