Poetry

the text message

Today my phone jumped

a tiny lung in my pocket

so silent

I put my house keys

in my trainers

and ran up to the woods

the moon was round and blurred

as I slammed feet on the rain

took cold air from the sky

and threw it all

in with those frying spices

which rose from the house in the corner

and danced in my nostrils like your words

Beth Davyson