Anna King
Four Children
"And I sat with my back to the skies
as I mouthed out a prayer to the winds
and imagined them ghosts; for where I sat, half-anaesthetised,
four children had used to sit"
Sun sets, small town
So the masks are sloughed off,
and my heart stretches a shining ladder, reaches
In Regions Clear, and Far
there is no us without this city. Oxford is ours
