GUEST POST // Ghost Letter 53 by Mark Renney

I have managed to abandon the City yet again but there it is; the point that rankles, a sharp needle stuck in my side as I walk, the fact that I have done this before, that I am doing it again.

I rarely think about my former existence, but I remember now how my past life had also been filled with repetition. But the rituals then had been more intimate and my connection with the places I frequented much more deeply ingrained and that these places had been rife with memories.

I wonder, is this what I am running from, am I trying to forget, to not feel this deeper connection. Drawing to a halt, I turn away from the busy road and, gazing out across the open fields, I realise that, if so, then I have failed.

by MARK RENNEY
© All rights reserved 2020

snowed in

you wake at night
when first snow has tucked the city in
and neon glow has plucked glam rings
into the supercilious dark

you see outside
something shaggy and stark wants in
presses craggy nose, sharp tightening
unto the chilled window pane

you rush through the door
jump up bare to the porch sans clogs
and december like a debauched dim dog
licks your cheek with frosty tongue

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019