3 poems by Dominic Leonard

    And So We Invented The Wheel


    and still we were afraid

    of everything we

    had not created.


    And when we were done

    what was left of

    the trees still delivered the wind,


    warmed themselves by living in their little flings.

    They were still singing my heart,

    that filthy project.


    Mary and the Angel


    I returned to the place and when I passed it was raining,

    Stopping to regard the house across the road

    In a long coat like a spy or lost lover when the family


    Who lives there now pulled up and piled in and I was

    Laughing at this hurt I had shaped for myself, thinking what

    A dreadful movie I perform in as I stepped away,


    Cut off from flickers of life which once had slept in me,

    Watching bow from the clouds a new absurdity to be lived with,

    A bright and alert and ridiculous space between us.


    Snow


    for Bhanu


    Greeted at the pink periphery

    of a breaking season

    no longer rain that

    pushed the mist from off

    the wretched hedges but from

    the topmost drawer of winter

    withdrew a softly whirring

    & chewed the trees away

    roads of cyclamen beneath

    branches white heavy

    rushed to & from darkness

    watches foxes lying down

    & round

    them decorates silence.


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    Dominic Leonard's pamphlet of medieval centos, 'love, bring myself' (Broken Sleep), was a Poetry Book Society recommendation, and in 2019 he received an Eric Gregory award from the Society of Authors. He lives and teaches in London.