Rennie Parker
Private Land
I went for a walk with my feet.
Two cats looked at me.
A horse swished its tail.
Out of my sight was a blurred bell
Sounding in the village.
A pig crunched in a yard.
Slugs leaned across the road
Trying to get there.
As clouds stood up in the east
I attempted the village way.
A moth flew into my hair,
The flies attacked me.
Voices behind windows said:
‘Do you want butter on this?’
‘Your programme’s on.’
Dark coffee smelled outwards.
A calf with the ear tag 61
Stuck its nose through the fence.
The fluff scut of a rabbit
Flashed. Before me
The mixed grasses were haywire.
Laughter across the field.
A small car goes home.
A calm evening, then. Calm.
Mist begins to descend.
The sign says Private Land.
Page(s) 56
magazine list
- Features
- zines
- 10th Muse
- 14
- Acumen
- Agenda
- Ambit
- Angel Exhaust
- ARTEMISpoetry
- Atlas
- Blithe Spirit
- Borderlines
- Brando's hat
- Brittle Star
- Candelabrum
- Cannon's Mouth, The
- Chroma
- Coffee House, The
- Dream Catcher
- Equinox
- Erbacce
- Fabric
- Fire
- Floating Bear, The
- French Literary Review, The
- Frogmore Papers, The
- Global Tapestry
- Grosseteste Review
- Homeless Diamonds
- Interpreter's House, The
- Iota
- Journal, The
- Lamport Court
- London Magazine, The
- Magma
- Matchbox
- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
- Monkey Kettle
- Moodswing
- Neon Highway
- New Welsh Review
- North, The
- Oasis
- Obsessed with pipework
- Orbis
- Oxford Poetry
- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
- Poetry Cornwall
- Poetry London
- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
- Poetry Review, The
- Poetry Salzburg Review
- Poetry Scotland
- Poetry Wales
- Private Tutor
- Purple Patch
- Quarto
- Rain Dog
- Reach Poetry
- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
- Smiths Knoll
- Smoke
- South
- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The