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

growth.

- 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.