This one’s a freebie
lhude sing cuccu
what is waxing, not wax
but aught else
we ebb and ebb
in the false azure
reverdie is a vote-winner
spring lays down, uncoiled
little trepid goslings
mown down by motorist
knot-holes in a garden fence
the thigh of an aphid bristles
bees are nowt now
here trembling is a haunted iPhone
no-one cannot tell me
we are not not here
thawing Ribena for the curl’d tongues
of lapidary insects
perched in the spray-top
or furred like a peach
I have heard the crickets singing
each to each
awful as the feathers
on a satellite dish
_________
Tom Blake has had short stories published in 404Ink and Mono. His poetry pamphlet, Ƨ, was published in 2023 by Red Ceilings Press. He holds an MA with Distinction from Middlesex University's Novel Writing programme and he writes about music for Folk Radio UK.
This poem was selected by Anthropocene Guest Editor Tom Branfoot
Comments