The bracken is low, below my waist at least. Sometimes even below my knees. Only two weeks ago it was … More
Tag: Poetry
Monday night at North Lees
A snot-coloured caterpillar is punching holes in hazel leaves. Bare feet in sodden leather boots approach from behind, laces untied, … More
DNF
A poem about bouldering I squeaked my shoe on my palm then put it on the rock. “GET OFF!!” screamed … More
Hati Whiteley 