Selected Poems

Message from a

Herring Gull

wling child. donut from a ba atched a sugary escent or Last week I sn flu e th ds, ling crow I watch the wobb swarm below. stags and hens r? e here? Every yea omenade below, Why do they com d gaze at the pr an sts gu dy I glide on win d as I bob. my wings locke e. e at the seasid you that you ar My voice tells chips. h like fish and You and I, we bot

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e fro A Messag

ks in spar d - faces lf, but e s d e young to ol t or pain ughter jumping from d e s o p a of la dbaby am. Not of it. See this gran Here I lit up with the joy discovering toes, and the friend you adore returning yo ur grin? He re I am.

Jamala, piękno, frumuseţe, I speak in every tongue, in the Irish Sea scribbling in wet sand, in a million starlings amazing the sky.

When you’re asleep, dream of me.

When you need me, come and find me.

Look - here, in your reflected face - here I am.

Mandy Coe

World e h t e to

nd thbou es. s ear e u b p e e e h and t hat k ld, for birds d us t u wor n e o u h y o t r , k a ss Than e gra forces es, th r the e o r t f e ld th wor k you s. s, Than inst u l beat t aga rt stil r c a o a e f h , d y an world hat m st us. k you me. T e Than . id again s ly ’s e in e e r s n o f g in move at no the th ive, th arms g y o r t o m f , arn that world t kill. we le k you nd no That a . s e s Than e iv y. dn us thr happil of kin rld, for sleep letting acts o d r o n w f a t ls, k you he hil lay ea Than and t live, p d n n a u r c o o r the g orld, f y, that we ings. you w mil k a n se th f a Th and f the o ite, s ll d a free. n rie thwa emy e be , for s o ld m r r my f o g C w tin cad her or let k you ristop th Shore A Than orld, f K w u o ky Sou Than

ag Mess

Some days…

Some days, summer is best when it’s clear, fair and getting on to dusk we talk the old ways by semaphore, Aldis, flags. It’s prone to mistakes, but on our islands we build up slow words each one wrestled from the sky to take its place in books I wish would last. I could draw us in the margins and what was left unsaid still hanging in the air.

David Riley

On

On ce no ce a a‌ On w a mes no ce a text sag On w em let on e in no ce a ail ter a ph a b On w a car in t in a one ottl e, no ce a sate rie he i pos .

On w in fea llit r pi nbo t bo x, no ce p k in the e b geon x.

On w a arc sid r in eam. , no ce a piec hmen e a p ink w i po e o t en , n B em f p .

Ma a o l ac n p per Hi rcu k po ape . gh s E ol r, fi el to el ey wn dL & ce ea Ad nt de am rs re S hi te . p A ad ca , de my