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Mono by Laura Parker
In midsummer we march between the stiffly regimented wheat across a level horizon.
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Trophies by Graham Mort
Swifts have been returning to the village for centuries.
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Calling Time by David Hinchliffe Bradford
…he would dote on his beloved species and take up arms against others.
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![A photograph of the ancient yew at Fortinghall.]()
The Fortinghall Yew by Karen Lloyd
And she was gone, travelling back through the ages along the path to the twenty-first century.
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Murujuga by Sally McEnallay
Our history hides underneath, requiring forensic and patient excavation sometimes with tweezers and small brushes.
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Harry and Pierse by Hana Loftus
What drew Becker to crouch in the fields day after day, obsessively documenting his neighbours as they worked?
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Montol and Midwinter Light by Ysella Sims
We wind through the streets, the rain giving way to the winds of the next winter storm.
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The Lost Dens of Leicester by Sharon Tyers
Sixty years later, I often find myself deep within our den in my dreams.
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Two New Poems by William Thompson
I’ve seen everything there is to see:
the ancient hammerheads; -
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Shifting Sands by Ysella Sims
Here is a photo of a couple telling their own story.
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Between Sea and Sky – Rewilding Lewis by Ian Grosz
The pier at the end of the road harboured a dredger and a few small work boats.
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Some Miraculous Promised Land by Richard Gwyn
In July 2021, I finally climbed Arenig Fawr.
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Mono by Laura ParkerIn midsummer we march between the stiffly regimented wheat across a level horizon. […]
Trophies by Graham MortSwifts have been returning to the village for centuries. […]
Calling Time by David Hinchliffe Bradford...he would dote on his beloved species and take up arms against others. […]