The Bomb-Maker’s Watch
by Lorna Shaughnessy Clocking in and out. That’s the bit that gets me. That, and watching the clock, that huge clock over the factory floor,
Mullion
by Aideen Henry We are fortresses you and I our fortifications, castellations and buttresses not visible in the main, not until the flowers and
Found — The sycamore shadow rocks and falls
by Afric McGlinchey backward, to the shock of plant and animal, child. Read it in the child’s face. We used to make this garden our own: that bit
Swallows
by John Liddy Outdoors: A Glenstal Abbey Cycle for Fr Brian From a clearing in the woods with a view across the fields, my swallow’s eye
When the city becomes metaphysical I ask the question
by Kevin Kiely this capitulation of the spirit among cityscape and the banks are empty, lit from inside so poke and digit for your virtual cash
A Hand Of Cinquain
by Mark Granier This game is where letters are given some rope, slack to unwind with, make your name turn its back. What has five fingers, a