Poems

Poem

Billy chased me round the playground
with hands full of fists

Billy yelled at me across the football pitch
with a mouth full of stings.

Poem

We watch them, hypnotized.
Pale and mysterious,
They rise and fall. Joe says
“They look like ghosts.”

Let in the Stars
Poem

We turn our faces up and jiggle thirty toes,
Morse-coding longing with our restless beat.
When will it come?
Shepherds on the first Nativity, we scan the skies
and huddle,