Blog

Writing a novel lends itself to the exploration of grief, the way that sadness surges and recedes. A novel allows for immersion. It allows readers to be swallowed, to disappear into the narrative.  >

Header_puff
Tournlogo13 Advert
Puff_puff

Waiting for the Train

Craig Billingham

Poetry by Craig Billingham

I have thought myself
inside a painting by Jeffrey Smart
where I am richer


and infinitely more
composed. Calm
in the stillness of bad weather—


a storm
captured at the point of passing,
a foreboding sky


cracked open by the sun.
I do not know
what will happen—


I feel uncommonly small
yet hopeful.
My cohabitants


are tightly packed
within themselves—
they hum


a prayer of their containment,
a dampened music.
I close my eyes


and silence comes,
released
as though from deep


within a bed of sandstone—
it seeks to claim me.
Paused,


forever imminent,
and the world
on my lips
     feels massive.

© Craig Billingham

poetry

Puff_puff

New poetry from Gareth Robinson

Puff_puff

Animals dismembered and disemboweled in new poetry from Natalie Rose Dyer

Puff_puff

Snowflakes transform a garden in new poetry from Simeon Kronenberg

Puff_puff

Mathematics and divinity in new poetry from Peter Coghill

Puff_puff

New poetry from David Musgrave