wind of flowers. Poems by Neil Creighton

I woke this morning to music of breath and skin, dark cascade of pillowed hair, a jacaranda-blue day dancing through the curtains an...

At the Victoria & Albert Museum Two little girls, both about four, play in the courtyard’s shallow pond. The day is warm. They run and s...

Elegy for Ikeogu Oke Always the relentless tide comes in. Sometimes it snatches a child. Sometimes an adolescent is held in its suck. So...

Come, Companions. We have stayed too long. Betrayal sent us to this cove and grief has kept us here, growing fat and dull in indolence and s...