Northwords Now Issue 37

The FREE literary magazine of the North

The Words of the Pot to the Swallow

by Lydia Harris

My body is hollow as sky.
I glint grains like your eye.
I’m courted by flame.
Hear me ring.

Your wings fold my rim.
Your song echoes my belly.

You step onto my skin
write oval and lozenge.


Grooved Ware
As PrayerPoem by Lydia Harris
'Energy is an attribute of objects'Poem by Lydia Harris
Folk Tapped PotsPoem by Lydia Harris
How I know youPoem by Lydia Harris
Pots StillPoem by Lydia Harris
She that will have a pot out of the clayPoem by Lydia Harris
The Words of the Pot to the SwallowPoem by Lydia Harris
Tracing the Lines Exhibition Tankerness House Poem by Lydia Harris