Author: Lynne Wycherley

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Sofia, Poetry

To The Dartford Warbler

In this cold spring, where are you?Heath spark, a coral speck,lost from lenses, paths. The Marines charge and clamber,their faces smirched as yoursbut where are you? Through sedge-weave, thistle-windwhere bracken, rust-serratedwrites the whin? Now gorse...

Sofia, Poetry

Summer by the Swale

The sounds of Old Norse tangle with the river, Gunnar’s-side, Muker, Thwaite and Keld. We speak each name and taste stone. The old men watch us from the eaves of their caps, the lintels of...