slowing down under a blue sky. A poem by Nick Allen

with no computer screen to stare at

I close my eyes to the sun

and draw in the deep smell of coffee


the avenues apocalyptic quiet now

it is always Sunday morning

and there are no more car boot sales


a jogger zombies the middle of the road

destabilized by all the space

the thrill of the unguarded white line


the neighbours cat pays a serpentine visit

before lying across the heat of the path


the fattest bee revs its machinery into life

and lifts its improbability towards


a drooping rose the magnolia flowering

raspberry golden dandelion coins


a pair of goldfinches hang on the seeds


I hear growth I feel time and change


Nick’s first collection the riding and his pamphlet the necessary line were both published by Half Moon Books, Otley. His recent collaboration with York based artist Myles Linley, between two rivers, was published by Maytree Press, Marsden. He derives sustenance from espressos and malt whisky.

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