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3 poems by Tim Youngs

Long Weekend

The people who live here

speak of attractions some miles distant

appearing not to know

those closer ones we have come to see

like the ancient woodland

or smaller nature reserve nearby

whose tiny waterfall

we much prefer to the boating lake

in that holiday park.

True, everyone’s friendly and means well

but they have cost me time

in this place I travelled to for rest.

It might be different

if those with whom we spoke were other

than professional types

relocated to begin new lives:

true locals would, I’m sure,

appreciate what’s on their doorstep

though I’m pleased to notice

fund-raising events for refugees.

Living room

Pillowcase, pillowcase

what do you have there?

I have here the sparrow

pulled from the air.

The removal men used me

to catch it mid-flight

between your bookcase

and tall standard lamp

making of me a seal

that halted its heart.

Now, fearing disease,

they say I should burn.

Look, your pillow is bare.


The melt we cause indoors

on coats and under shoes

might seem the end of it

but house-warmth that transforms

crystals into fluid

we cannot hold is worth


The contrast

introduces tenses:

the gone, the now, the look

ing forward to return;

freedom from the moment.

So let us celebrate

these droplets in the hall.


Tim Youngs is the author of the pamphlet, Touching Distance (Five Leaves, 2017) and co-

editor with Sarah Jackson of the anthology, In Transit: Poems of Travel (The Emma Press,

2018). His poems have appeared in several print and online magazines, including The

Interpreter's House, London Grip, Magma and Poetry Salzburg Review.

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