Category: Summer 2017
Moth and Mother
by Niall Campbell The night he cried himself into our bed, I couldn’t find the clear road back to sleep so went for water — filling the glass
Midas
by Miriam Gamble Later he will dress for dinner, though for now he is embarrassed that the only thing he has to offer is the Lucozade we brought,
The Landing Window is Unspeakable
by Miriam Gamble There’s a turn in the stairs beyond which, in the darkness, you are terrified to go — the realm of the creaking life which
Oyster
by Michael Pedersen Bums to seats down at the table like a book with a fresh new ending — in every direction universes beyond this this room
Visitation
by Liz Niven Visitation Galloway Scots Yesterday, A seen an angel. He came richt intae the kitchen when A was makin the tea. His wings
sky
by Liz Niven lift Galloway Scots twa wrens are thrang, howkin oot moss fae ma gairden dyke wee mooths pull green fronds twice as lang’s
The Solitary Reaper
by Ken Cockburn was composed for an exhibition linking Wordsworth and Basho at Kamikoro Bunko, Osaka, Japan, in autumn 2016. It draws on
Think of it this Way
by John Glenday Late May. Rapefields in open blossom. You pull into a layby to savour that heady fullness of yellow, staining the air an
Think of it this Way
by John Glenday You find yourself awake, in a bed that is not your own, in a room you do not recognise, in a city where you are a stranger and
Ratman
by Jim Carruth This was the nickname for him that stuck though the rat survived barely a few months after he trapped it in a sack at the harvest,