Friday poem: 'Wish You Were'
By Colette Bryce
Here, an aftertaste of traffic taints
the city’s breath, as mornings
yawn and bare this street
like teeth. Here, airplanes leaving
Heathrow scare this house
to trembling; these rooms protect
their space with outstretched walls,
and wait. And evenings fall
like discs in a jukebox, playing
a song called Here, night after night.
Wish you were. Your postcards
land in my hall like meteorites.
From Selected Poems
, which draws together the best of Colette Bryce's highly acclaimed and prize-winning collections.
Moving from the melodic to the political, from the humorous to the nostalgic, Bryce's poetry explores home, escape, family and childhood. Her Selected Poems is a perfect compilation of her most impressive work and the perfect introduction to one of poetry's most lyrical voices.
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