This poem is taken from Stand 211, 14(3) September - November 2016.

Howard Wright Four Poems

He kept it to himself, how he saved
the young boy from drowning in the Bann
that unnaturally hot summer
when it seemed everyone
was taking a turn across the river,
behind the Carpet Mills at the bamboo jungle.

She knew, of course, from other people,
and was more than willing to remember when
the only time the river froze and hand-in-hand
they walked across together
remarking on the creatures, alive and dead,
under her careful feet.

To the City

Bouncers to the city, the tour touts line the route,
banning non-tourists, barring the way at crossings
and junctions, seizing their chance to pounce.
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