Every day I go out down

Every day I go out down

but then a blackbird alights
on a cherry blossom branch
in the time of flying petals,

a squirrel by a railing stops
and runs, stops and runs,
in the shadow of the trees,

or a child holds up traffic,
high-stepping on the crossing,
bonnet-high, and runs away.

and the clouds, the clouds,
billow like white opium smoke
as all the young trees reach and bow

and old trees hold up,
hold out their arms,
as if to say
This is it.

Photo: Street scene with Laburnum, May 2021

Moving On/Gallery

I’ve given up promoting my books as life is a bit too short and it does no good. However, I will continue to publish what I can and let my words rise like burnt prayers to the heavens. Self-promotion is tiresome and ineffectual, if not downright counter-productive. Let that be an end to it.

So, next. I’ve put a gallery of slivers from my photos as page headers, only slivers because they have to be cropped to fit the space available in this WordPress theme. They’re randomised and you can make another one appear (usually) by clicking them. Meanwhile, here’s what the book looks like on an old Kindle.

Kindle view from “Day of the Flying Leaves” by yours truly

Free on Kindle till this Thursday April 23rd

Photo: “Wino Transition” by the author

Download my poetry collection Day of the Flying Leaves free for Kindle. Note, you do not have to sign up for Kindle Unlimited to get this title for free. Offer ends Thursday 23 April 2021. Also available in paperback. Normal price £5.99.

Update: The offer has expired. The Kindle version now costs £1.99. See previous posts for the list of contents, cover image and sample poems. Thanks for your interest. (Stephen)

Morning Thoughts

Summer doesn’t come round again
Because no two summers are the same.
If you’re waiting for love to revisit
The parks and sofas and cars,
They’re gone – under concrete,
Crushed and melted down, landfill.

No, summer won’t come round again,
Look forward to the unborn,
Look backward to the long gone.
In winter, don’t wish your life away.
There will be another season
For you, there will be a new day.

*

The mile-high club is grounded.
Sand dunes on that beach are in tier four.
There are cobwebs in the public toilets.
(Mind you, there always were.)
The back row of the flicks is nixed.
Wake up little Susy, it’s over, we’re dead.

*

You can look at it one of two ways.
You can say there’s sodden paper
On the ground
Or
Sunlight shines on one side
Of the weed-grown back lane
Behind the shopping parade.

A smell of paint thinner is in the breeze
And the corner of an outdated poster
On a gable billboard
Opens like a door.

From: “Day of the Flying Leaves: Selected Poems” by Stephen Moran

Day of the Flying Leaves / Autumn Rain

Our supple living green has turned to paper.
Rusty, soon-to-be shadows wander around.
The rushing south-westerly is a friend,
saying anyway it’s time to blow this town.

*

Autumn rain darkens terracotta tiles
to match the rotting leaves, tones down
white eaves, redbrick walls and gables,
soaking pavements from beige to brown.

Even the clouds, leading my way
at dusk, back down this road in Harrow,
kiss goodbye to pearlescent yesterdays,
thinking, echoing only woodsmoke.

From: “Day of the Flying Leaves: Selected Poems” by Stephen Moran

The London Silence and Other Stories – a new edition

Photos: Night Scene, Shoreditch & Cobbled Street, Dublin by the author

I have made a revised edition of my short story collection available as an Amazon independently published paperback and also for Kindle. I’m not a fan of Amazon as a business for certain reasons but I’m glad their service enables this new publication. Here is my Amazon author page.