Sally Evans Poems

Under the Castle gate
bringing my store to the kitchen
I am asked to wait.
Honey shines in crocks in my basket.
...

Via the pole, I look down to the angled view from the wing,
and wonder I let myself in for this adventure of words.
Once the action took over I was shepherded into the plane.
Here I am in a prison cabin bound for Chicago.
...

Each year turns, every year renews.
All variations of green shade shine
thousands in each of a million trees
meanwhile in hundreds of towns the travellers
...

A is for airborne, an arctic affair,
B is a box for a battered brown bear.
C is a clock that cannot count figures,
D is a desk for a diary, dumb diggers.
...

Shoes from the rough icy sea
with voices chanting above,
boots of boys and men,
legions of sandals,
...

A poet named this new colossus.
The service station told me, 'You can't miss it.'
Miles away, it seemed less than a pylon.
...

It scars the dullest part of Scotland,
obliterated under warehouses,
short term railways, housing schemes,
the outskirts of uncertain villages.
...

for Larry Butler

A slight smirr of rain.
blows on and off as weather trails
...

Although we don't recall an overlap
we owned the same secret land
of Country Durham,
flat, unregarded, whale-shaped,
...

Outside my castle I have flower beds.
Not trees or lakes.

Trees don't last long enough for me
...