On Thurstaston Hill


The sun

incandescent with itself


bubbles and blisters

prosthetic grey cloud


like polystyrene

eating fire


a lance of light

trepans fluffy fontanelles


stitching gold

to the cornfields below


a shock of sky

dissolves at its touch


spilling colour everywhere

seeding my eyes with jewels


a treasure revealed


but only to me.



Concerned with time

they designed

a clockwork box to keep it in


Its brassy beak pecking inside

hollowing it out


When my time was running low

they sewed one into me


To top it up


It taps inside my bony cage

and tries to pick the lock.


Lost in a walk

I stumbled on a forest

Grown thick in the space

Between adult and child

Memory’s crucible

Buckled all the paths

Confusing me

Funnelling me the wrong way

Every step snagged

On a wrangle of roots

As the old wood

Tried to reacquire me

Tried to steal another year

To call its own

Tethering my orbit

To its wooden heart

David J Costello lives in Wallasey, Merseyside, and is co-organiser of local poetry venues The Bards (New Brighton) and Liver Bards (Liverpool). His work has been published in anthologies and poetry journals including, in recent months, The Penny Dreadful, Envoi and Magma. He has been placed in various competitions, most recently being shortlisted for the 2011 Grist Poetry Prize and winning the 2011 Welsh Poetry Competition. David's first collection of poetry, Human Engineering, is due from Thynks Publications later this year.

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