This poem is taken from Stand 223, 17(3) September - November 2019.

Lucy Sheerman Poem
from Pine Island

26 January


Those geese descend from the grey sky again, out of the blue you might say. The sudden shock of sound breaking overhead. This time it’s not real of course, it’s a moment my friend, the curator, has shared by text. It was almost a year ago we saw them together as we walked into Kettle’s Yard at dusk.
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