Heavenless by Mary Gilonne

We don’t need shoals of angels,

shadows darting fish on witless walls,

finning out to net the laden, trawl

them freshly gilled like fingerlings,

innocent as spawn. Give us bright birds

promising plump appled days, drunk

on sky. Sap-singing ambles of trees,

a coax of buttocky hills. And those slipping

hands of lovers, butter-cupped fields of them.




Mary is a translator from Devon, living in France for many years. She won the 2015 Wenlock Prize, has been short listed several times for the Bridport, commended in the Caterpillar and Teignmouth Prize, and published in Prole, Antiphon, Snakeskin, Grievous Angel, Clear Poetry, Emma Press, among others. She is working towards her first collection.

Inspired by

This inspired

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