Wild Court

Lent It can be as simple as this: the sound of someone hooveringmakes you turn around from your desk to look, and thereon your bedroom wall is an impossible sunlit imageyou’ve never seen before, in all the twenty yearsyou’ve lived in this north-facing room, which never sees sunlightbetween October and March – but here are…

Undertow Eyes wide in the dark, I listen. A thud upon the hull,drumming, like a cold caller stoic at a bolted door.I lift the hatch and go outside. Bright starsdulled by the galaxy of city. I grab the gaffand spear, jabbing at the dead. Before it surfaced,glowing. The sharp teeth bared in a tight cruel…

These poems were originally published on Wild Court in March 2022. Susumu The sun beat down on Tokyo intensely:Forty-five in the shade. The matsu treeStretched out across Susumu’s back garden,Providing relief from the scorching heat. Susumu’s dad had finally convincedHim to have the minor operation:Yarinasai, he’d growled, don’t be a coward –Susumu was frightened but…

  Visiting Mary I visit the place I imagine her in.I practice walking the tall grassto the stony house,the bit of rock they’ve left, a candleto mark she was there,that someone is there to find.I practice shutting the door in my mind,driving straight.It won’t matter how abandoned—the place will be ringing with crickets.The low, twitching…

  Marginal for Michael Brown And let us not dispraise the quiet manwho on a hundred acres sets back tenfor voles to tunnel in, finches to congregate,for beasts too slender for the eye to seeto populate, flit, crawl in at their whim.Some narrow path where small heathbutterflies proliferate, where upright parsleysalts the hedge and trefoil…

Three Silences Bone dust and cold thick haunting silence restswhere pews and people creak and break the peaceand echo of my prayer, the echo of the priestdark wood pervades. Dark silent shelter tempts.Dim light breaks, soft soothing mellow silencethis gentle touch. This now. This edge of day.The lightness of my breath. Eternal graceas fine silk…

For the fourth event in the Wild Court Reading Series, we are delighted to welcome celebrated US-based poet, translator and literary critic Kimberly Johnson. Kimberly will be reading and in conversation with Dr Hannah Crawforth, Reader in Early Modern Literature at King’s College London. The event takes place on KCL’s Strand Campus, London, from 6.30pm…

New Year Doors are locked to neighbours nowat midnight on Hogmanay,the ‘first-fit’ a thing of the past:my grandparents’ house heaving with guests,the coal fire crackling, the craicmixing with smoke in the atmosphere. I tell the bairn of it like some mythabout a hearth long agowhen Daddy had dark hairand was the first to tread indoorand…

  Death Still Walks In ‘In the old days news of it traveled by foot.’— Billy Collins, ‘Death’ Here’s how to miss the deathof a friend whose houseyou glide by every day: To start, be sure to catchthe first prognosis, then someof the subsequent progress, till her remission gets you brieflyoff the hook, lets you…

Every Particle Attracts Another Dear (if I may) young Sperm Whale I recently received a letter beginning with‘Dear’. Four letters transforming a letter,travelling beyond a formal beginning to years of unknown fondness. Dear young sperm whaleDear juvenile physter macrocephalus Tēnā koe parāoa I have no throwback to atolls or archipelagos, no relatives on early outrigger…

Red Check Shacket I’d heard the stories: the timeon Cromer beach, some oozinghallucinated morning, whereamongst the bladder wrackand shreds of net, he founda jetsam blister pack of pillsand snorted every one. Peopletold me to take anything he saidwith a pinch of salt: his father,broken from his wife’s affairbailing out of a stricken planeat ten thousand…

Yakov in Space Stalin sent his eldest son from his first marriage to fight on the front lines during World War Two. Yakov was captured by the Germans. Despite three proposed deals to release him, Stalin left him in the camp where Yakov eventually died. Father, it is cold abovethe Earth, in the vacuumof your…

Fútbol Sala ¡A un solo toque! ¡Más rápido!¡Acho, Maciu! ¡Más rápido, coño! They’re taking it in turns to yell at meevery time a neat pass avoids my bootand cannons off my ankle into touch.They zip the ball across the parquet floor,drawing triangle after triangle. Sunday league at the Rec in Dockenfielddidn’t exactly ready me for…

Vivien Leigh’s negligee A caliginous enchantress from the start.Beguiling vision. A flash. Flutter of soot eyelashes,eyes that looked violet, gray, blue, tan and nearly every other colour in the         spectrum. Her cryptic smile, expressing an alchemy of emotions.See her wearing this diaphanous garment made of sheer white nylon chiffon, edgedwith lace…

Tree in the Rain Go in peace,go with joy into the soft rainwhich never ends.Rain without end.Go in peaceunder the rainthe Liffey Arms, O’Rourke’s,the horses.Sundays without end.Rain without end. Some of us make our wayto the memory tree.Desmond has a list of the deadand he says a few wordsabout each onethough even as he speaksthe…

Beg Your Neighbour She pushes back her sleeves,cuts a piece of bread,dreads the cold, lonely day ahead. Could she pluck up courageto ask her neighbour for milk?He won’t look at her, let alone smile. How hungry she is for a smile,not church, trees, river in his eyes.She watches him: he pushes back his hair, abashed.She…

Below is an extract from Greencombe by Ella Duffy, recently published by Hazel Press. Greencombe consists of twenty-nine interlinked poems which walk the paths through the titular woodland garden in Exmoor. from Greencombe: A poem in paths – – – – – – – – main path You’ve walked through gardenswhere a bench is an…