Plain Song by Tom Blake

This one’s a freebie

lhude sing cuccu

what is waxing, not wax

but aught else

we ebb and ebb

in the false azure

reverdie is a vote-winner

spring lays down, uncoiled

little trepid goslings

mown down by motorist

knot-holes in a garden fence

the thigh of an aphid bristles

bees are nowt now

here trembling is a haunted iPhone

no-one cannot tell me

we are not not here

thawing Ribena for the curl’d tongues

of lapidary insects

perched in the spray-top

or furred like a peach

I have heard the crickets singing

each to each

awful as the feathers

on a satellite dish

_________

Tom Blake has had short stories published in 404Ink and Mono. His poetry pamphlet, Ƨ, was published in 2023 by Red Ceilings Press. He holds an MA with Distinction from Middlesex University's Novel Writing programme and he writes about music for Folk Radio UK.

This poem was selected by Anthropocene Guest Editor Tom Branfoot