prose poetry – Sally Gander

…in praise of dreamers

62.Sometimes, when the rain comes, you take it as a sign to let the days arrange themselves. You and your lover wake up late, drink coffee in bed, listen to the pigeons skittering against the window. You eat breakfast after noon, tear olive bread and pour red wine, you read poetry and watch old films. Continue reading “…in praise of dreamers”

…the last great day of May

57. It is the last day of May and we gather in the garden beneath the high sun, some of us meeting for the first time, some already old friends. Once we’ve eaten the collected treasures of olives and cheeses and harmonies of chocolate, we untangle ourselves to the drowsy lane, down to where weContinue reading “…the last great day of May”