Friday, January 15, 2016

New Poetry by Jim Conwell

Clearing, off Nordic Drive

The wind has picked up and
is passing through the trees like
freight on the move, whilst
a tiny sparrow works the leaf mould at
the foot of the nearest oak,
it’s dark trunk going straight up to
where the light is most abundant.

Unwitnessed, the
logs over there across
the clearing would
continue to lie,
the symbiotic processes of decay would
still move inside them. Sometimes
the wind would pick up to
a fury and another tree would
go over or simply die from
natural causes. The branch that
has fallen near the corner of
the deck would still
rear up until
its body became too soft to
bear its weight and
it fell prone on
the leaf mould, rolling
sideways a little before
coming to rest again.
Over time, and unwatched, this
clearing would slowly fill with

- Jim Conwell 2016

With an original background in Fine Art, Jim Conwell has worked in mental health for thirty years. He has had poems published in magazines in the UK, Ireland, and North America and had two poems shortlisted in the Bridport Poetry Prize 2015. He lives in London.

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