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||Edwin Drood's Column
||23 June 2015
|It's been a while since we have had a poem by Hugh Featherstone.|
So roll over, Edwin, and let Hugh take the stage.
Perhaps I used not to care
for I don't remember being afraid
and now that I am it's not for me
terror ties me to others
the taut strings join at my navel
and even faith
can't seem to stop them humming
For every time a child vanishes
I count ours
every time you drive somewhere
I see you broken
every time I hear the fire brigade
our house burns
every time the phone rings
... hang from a single wire
the whole fly-blown world
don't cut me down
it's the last line open
From Bird under water, a selection of poems by Hugh Featherstone
© Hugh Featherstone
Another poem from this selection will appear next time the Drood's away.
The Bird under water homepage includes a foreword by Hugh Featherstone
and a linked list of the poems as they appear.
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