There was a storm out there, on the sea of ferns
and small spiders crept in and out of old burns.
Roaming the desert, a dog found the dusk
and in a flower somewhere, red-pink with musk,
a fairy curled up in the arms of a bee.
The midges were swirling like water back home
and in the sky, a jellyfish hung all alone.
Under layers of ice, a horse in a hole;
in a meadow of gold and blue starlets, a foal.
Far out beyond grounds of new comets, you saw me.
Elizabeth Gibson is a writer and performer based in Manchester, UK. She is also the Editor and Photographer for Foxglove Journal. Liz has won a Northern Writers’ Award and been shortlisted for the Poetry Business’ New Poets Prize, and her work has appeared Cake, Cardiff Review, The Compass, Confingo, Litro and Strix among other journals. Liz blogs at http://elizabethgibsonwriter.blogspot.com and you can find her on Twitter and Instagram as @Grizonne.
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