Poetry

Look Around

Staring out with my perfectly yellowed eyes
I observe the sky, a greying foggy beautiful.
Rolled smoke covering soil mounds,
my lungs take in the welcoming chalk ash.
Fills me with the dust that we become
as I cough a thank you, and tread onto the
black tarmac.

Melted in the heat it sticks to my
bare foot, making me new shoes as it
cools in the arctic winds that blow
beast-from-the-east
snow in the sun.

It wasn’t always like this;
I remember a time when green was
a god. But that colour
washed out with the
pale of my cheeks
and the dust in my eyes
saying

Hello World: this is what we are now.


Bethan Rees lives in Swindon, Wiltshire and has appeared in Fly on the Wall, Atrium, Persephone’s Daughters, Domestic Cherry, Daily Drunk, Fresh Air, The Poet’s Haven Digest, I am not a silent poet, Lonesome October Lit, Amaryllis, and Three Drops Press. She currently studies MSc Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes, runs Wellbeing Writing groups and can be found sharing wellbeing work on: http://www.safeandsoundpress.com.

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