Matt Howard
and the quicksilver pulse of roach or rudd
and these circles they riffle on the pool
and the jack pike passing under that spooks them
reminds me of when we were here in winter
how a hairline crack in the ice shook us
how we froze as water scuttled our shoes
how the reeds we rushed to are now further out
and how a mind is a drift of roots
and nothing sits passive in its place
Matt Howard lives in Norwich, England, where he works for RSPB. Matt is also a steering group member of New Networks for Nature. Previous poems have appeared in several magazines including The North, The Rialto and Resurgence, with poems also in the current issues of The Dark Horse and Lighthouse. His debut pamphlet will be published by Eyewear in late 2014.
I like especially:’how the reeds we rushed to are now further out’
‘and how a mind is a drift of roots’
and nothing sits passive in its place’
I like the lines individually and collectively; they’re stronger than the earlier lines (IMHO)
regards
Keith
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