Thursday, 24 May 2018

A poem by Ceinwen Haydon

Lena Love


Lena’s off to church one final time.
Sweating, and shaking,
she shuffles off
down her garden path.

She sits in a pew at the back.
Incense fumes smoke roses
from the chasuble.
They catch her throat.

Dimly, she remembers Harry.
They’d wed in all their finery,
later he’d scarpered, for good.

He’s left her lonely, holding
only one keepsake. Love.
His surname Love.









Ceinwen lives in Newcastle upon Tyne, UK, and writes short stories and poetry. She has been published in web magazines and print anthologies. These include Fiction on the Web, Literally Stories, Alliterati, Stepaway, Poets Speak (whilst they still can), Three Drops from the Cauldron, Snakeskin, Obsessed with Pipework, The Linnet’s Wing, Blue Nib, Picaroon, Amaryllis, Algebra of Owls, Write to be Counted, The Lake, Ink, Sweat and Tears and Riggwelter with work coming up in Prole, Poetry Shed, The Curlew and Atrium. She graduated with an MA in Creative Writing from Newcastle University in December 2017.

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