This poem is taken from Stand 236, 20(4) December 2022 - February 2023.

Gareth Culshaw I Watched Him Take Down a Tree
He saws the blackbird song in half as he talks down a tree.
The crash of the fall flicks up leaf matter, and lost sunlight.
His flat cap balances on his skull as if plate spinning.
I watch him through leaves bullet-holed by wind and rain.
An oak branch covers me in shade until I blend into the bark.
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