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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 8, Number 3, September 2014


Alison Lock
Holmfirth, United Kingdom


It's a summer's night, one of those before-the-breaking-storm nights, when the dark is stifling as it falls through the open skylight. Above me, a sheer formation of stars trail the sky; a white linen nightshift flung from east to west on a northern hemisphere. I try to count them but in my sleep-unslaked state I do not know which ones I have already counted. So, I start again from the beginning until I am confused and all they do is sparkle and tease. What I would do for forty of their winks.

on the branches
pigeons slumber
in silhouette



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