Here is poem written by next year’s Creative Editor, Greg Hoare.
A cottage by the hillside;
Thatched roof and the polished doorframe
Set in chiselled walls;
White in the afternoon sunlight.
Baking bread and the smell
Of Italian spices hanging in the drawn
The chimney like a cancer patient
Coughing black into the
The man’s leather hands groping
A brass doorknob,
Turns with broken teeth and a
Then disappears into the dark interior.
Thump of the door-slam carries past
The well-trod footpath
On which I tie my shoelace;
Reaches and fades in the