Sat sinking deep
Red armchair thinking
Curtains on the cusp of something –
Open them let the light flow
Softly, softly now, into the room
Where it reveals old being new;
On the windowsill there is a sunflower
With its head confidently raised
‘you’ve watered it every day’
To bring the English country home
Inside to confide
With warm unnatural glows
Trim it down the stem
And realise as day turns to night
Turns to leaves falling
Turns to winter
Turns to water droplets on the window
Mist and fog
That it cannot last it will die –
Watch the petals fall and slide
To the floor
It cannot handle or understand
the urban interior light
it makes no substitute.
Its vase remains
Close the curtains
Again – the petals fall one by one
by Michael Morgan
Six am struck and Joan opened her eyes, bracing the sense of despair that had been clouding over her for weeks; weeks that had at some point turned into months. As she pulled back the duvet, those months of sweat, tears, and the occasional (daily) bottle of white wine that had ingrained onto her sister’s pale pink pyjamas fumigated the room. Joan stumbled out of bed, her head beating its constant pounding rhythm that told her you lived, you lived, you lived.
Holly Hopkins is an award winning poet, having won the Poetry Business Pamphlet Competition for her debut collection, Soon Every House will have One, as well as the Eric Gregory Award, and the Poetry Book Society Pamphlet Choice amongst others.
‘Tell me what you want me to do?!’ He screamed, holding his head. ‘I can’t read your mind Clara.’ My lips, dry, cracked. Thirsty. They want to tell him. But they don’t know what to say. My tongue, hides in the comfort of my mouth. It’s scared it will say the wrong things. Tangle and twist the truth. Spread its venom like a snake. For its vicious bite will be the end of this. This. Fragile, fucked up shit show we are still calling a marriage.
The train took me alone down south to meet you. You were already there at the station as I stepped onto the platform, and it was almost—but not quite—like I never left. All the force as you hugged me, so I nearly overbalanced with the weight from my backpack, but you anchored my feet to the ground and I knew I was safe.