Kate Wise


and the light on the oven hood
as I rock the pram in the fan’s white-noise
takes me to Athens’ night,
sharing baklava in too-bright cafes
next to Orthodox priests
who turned out to be Canadian
and understand every word we said;

and our white-plastic garden chairs,
golden shadowed by next door’s
bathroom bulb, the lamp-strung promenade
which swayed boozily into the night;

and the suburban cricket club’s cheerful beer lights
the ‘Nautical Club’, twinkling on rich retsina breezes;
and yellow Mars floating above
pinked Chian mountains, pink air dipping
towards earth, and the same aeroplanes
tying arcs of port and starboard.

And how long a neon minute
in the clock of the microwave takes


Kate Wise fits poetry in around being a solicitor and mum to two under-threes, composing on her commute. She has recently been published in New Trad Journal, and edition 12 of Stepaway magazine. She was commended in the 2013 Cafe Writers competition, the 2014 Manchester Cathedral Poetry Competition, and placed third in the 2014 Ware Poets Open competition.

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