by Christy Hall

I’m brought back to the bank of an ox-bow lake
and doesn’t Bracken, that incessant
aaland dwelling lichen,
aaalways fill the valley with cumin?
Pushed over the mist and moor.
Heavy in the nose,
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaabullying the air.
Bracken fronds the pasture, clinging
to the hill-side and rocks,
aarough, above, under,
maybe adders shudder there.

Christy Hall is a Northern poet currently residing in the South. He has had poems published in print and online, on both sides of the Atlantic. Recently one of his pieces was used in a literary pamphlet which helped to secure Hull’s bid to become European City of Culture for 2017. He graduated with a Master’s Degree from the University of Hull in 2010. He is currently writing his first full length collection, which will hopefully be launched sometime next year.