Previous contributions from:

Doreen Hopwood


I watch the birds, black headed gulls,
rooks and solitary crows,
heads cocked, a momentary lull
in their raucous cacophony.

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Interconnectedness of air
and trees and layers of sun lacerate
the holes in your being, crucifying,
peeling back skin,

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Isis Weeps for Cleopatra (an alternative, tragicomic view of an ancient story)

Deep within black granite halls,
the Goddess hears Her priestess
utter the summoning call,
unchanged for aeons, ancient and timeless,
‘Isis unveiled! Isis unveiled!’

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Farthest North

Absence of frost,
Winter a spent force,

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She had not expected to see a river,
shining brightness or sweet song
perhaps, instead a serpentine sliver
of water wound its way along

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