Hannah Lowe

 

 

Animals

 

My grandfather knew he was an animal.

He kept a notebook with the timetable

for all the trains to Epping, the olden forest

where he’d disappear for days. He’d nest

inside a hollow tree. I imagine him waking,

damp and pearly light across the clearing,

a Muntjac watching on the other side, the way

that animals do -- neighbor, predator, prey?

 

Once he took his children there at dawn

and walked them on the grassland without shoes.

Deep in the braided woods, he stood them on

the right side of the wind, to stop the deer

from scenting them, and have them sniff the air

for fox and musk. They were animals too.

 

 

 

Sven Birkerts

Adachioma Ezeano

A. C. Grayling

Matt Hanson

Rebecca Priestley

David Toomey