This poem is taken from Stand 221, 17(1) March - May 2019.

Claire Crowther Four Poems
Illyria by Rail

Evening: fur-
ragged sky bagging trees,
leaves dragging over pools stroked out of hiding

under ground.
Cosy up to strangers
while you listen to your granddaughter reading

and Cat-Alogue. She’ll ask:
The tooth fairy’s note…was it in mum’s writing?

In reply,
point: Sea birds have arrived.
If there’s a party in a field, they’re coming.

See that hedge?
The wrens hide there. Say: What
you know is what you choose to believe.
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