Do you say ‘weep’ ever – except inside a poem?
The coincidences in the poems sent in to me during the December window ARE uncanny.
Forget horses. Today it is wasps and rats.
Yes, it's a new year but I'm still reading poems from the old window.
Thoughts from the reading window.
The first three or four lines of a poem are make-or-break territory.
The reading window is open. The envelopes are stacking up.