Northwords Now Issue 40

The FREE literary magazine of the North


by Chris Powici

another winter’s ice and rain
the drub and scrape of hoof and horn
and these last lichen-riddled slabs
could creak and drop
to the bare, wet moor

but not yet

they stand and cling, they lean
against the blue May sky
the bright wind

a wheatear whistles from its granite nook
and a blackface ewe
pushes through the swaying broom
rubs her tatty arse against this poor, half-fallen dyke
and offers up a bleat or two
in praise of stone

Five Poems by Chris Powici...

...with translations by five other poets

Claonaig FerryPoem by Chris Powici
Coastal TownPoem by Chris Powici
DrystonePoem by Chris Powici
FallsPoem by Chris Powici
The Quick RainPoem by Chris Powici