I must strike out alone
my final linear walk
leads away from known paths
familiar faces
my insecure steps forsake home
tired travel thins time
tips gravity
flips over
as I fall
stumble to my feet
and fumble on
lower down the scree-slope trail
wayside hawthorn flirts
displays her white/pink-tinged flowers
she is coy in her promises
mouths her ripe berries
whispers of swollen fruits
I’ll never see
About the contributor: Ceinwen lives in Newcastle upon Tyne, UK, and writes short stories and poetry. She has been widely published in web magazines and in print anthologies. She graduated with an MA in Creative Writing from Newcastle University in 2017. She believes everyone’s voice counts.
[…] Chatterjee Ann Christine Tabaka Ben Nardolilli Callum Beesley Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon DS Maolalai Devinder Sharma Devika Mathur Dennis Moriarty Edward Lee Eliza Segiet Gopal Lahiri […]
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