Gareth Culshaw – 5 poems


the hawthorn hedges, kerb sides
of the fields. trees full of life

now black with damp and rain

I watch him melt into the view
as the woods migrate from the trees,

leaves let go, their colours on the floor

this is his time, perching on the horizon
keeping away the light as prey run, fly

away. his feathers are just scraping the sky

when he takes flight, not wanting to wave
back the sun. he waits on the hawthorn

in his long brown cape, not really alive

until he flies.




She brought him up at the top
of a hill, allowing him to see the

world below.

She took him down in her car
as they saw the doors of people

pass them by.

But today he is still up there
his hands in her pockets,

doing the things she cannot do anymore.

He is jailed, believing coming to work
makes him free, but her tongue

settles in his mouth.

His time is governed by her hand
passing numbers he does not know

does not tick tock.




Spoken words now in the carpets
crumbling to pieces like skin dust.

Windows agape, dead mouthed.

Paint flicking off in winds, tiles
slipping in rain. Doors aching to be

opened, locked, left ajar.

All footsteps gone, lost in the sun
dial of life. Swiped away when

the shadows left.

The building now waits to be buried,
name forgotten as the gravestones

of the people who had once slipped there.




you can tell they
are getting older
more leaves than

ever have fallen

the year lost
another ring added
more creaks to the joints

splitting in the bark

the garden is covered
in loss, leaves left
to the wind, to be blown

away, another forgotten year




our soil is just dead meat
crumbling of the earth

below our feet

miles away the concrete
and tarmac suck out the land

taking away hands we need

once vibrant hills now carry

lagging behind tractors

stone buildings sink into the view

barns vacant of touch hold
the winds for comfort

farms are just pens for lost people.


Gareth Culshaw

By Heavenly Flower Publishing

Bindweed Magazine publishes two anthologies each year: Midsummer Madness and Winter Wonderland. Bindweed is run as a not for profit, labour of love endeavour by an author/poet couple: Leilanie Stewart and Joseph Robert. Bindweed can be found at

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