Lesley Curwen (September 2024)

Lesley Curwen is a poet, former BBC broadcaster and sailor, based in Plymouth (UK). She writes about traumas of the planet and the heart. She has been nominated for Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. She won the Molecules Unlimited Prize, was a finalist in the Wales Poetry Award, and has two pamphlets just out – ‘Rescue Lines’ from Hedgehog Press and ‘Sticky with Miles’ from Dreich. She blogs at http://www.lesleycurwenpoet.com and is on X as @elcurwen.

Holding the ocean’s hand

It is the moment when

the sea bits my fingers numb
the arrow of my stroke is ice-tipped
as if winter hidden in the Sound's depths
has stretched its tentacles to suck my hands

and I remember

warm Novembers are not the norm
planetary tilt is still inevitable
seasons hold, cold is good and 
ocean soothes a grieving mind. 

The long-haired star

In slow seethe around sun's reach
it draws an elliptical course,
two great tails burning against
the void. What looks like fire
is dust and ice and rock
bouncing sunlight back to earth,
relic of an earlier universe.

What to do on an island

Walk to its dead centre where there is no wave-roar
where there is no scatter of sun from the ocean
only warm darkness and the embrace of trees.

Build a house with sapling-bones, palm leaves
and guano. Fill it with barkcloth throws. Make a plot
for breadfruit, yam and kava. Take a forked stick
and let a small brook twitch you to its source.    
Settle in comfort, tell yourself there is no edge
here, that land is limitless and life is good.

Lastly, bring food inside, close windows, put wax
in your ears until you see water under the door.

All poems exclusive first publication by East Ridge Review