Two new poems by Matthew Friday

Rich Waters

A Saturday evening in late August;
the prolepsis of summer has begun.
Under inky rain clouds stream ragged V’s.
of quiet seagulls, the first to probe inland.
Why so early this year? Or are you lost,
like me, looking for rich waters.



Out of the Cave

It was huge, like an alien
from War of the Worlds.
Its long spindly legs slapping
the side of the shower

for grip. The great grey bulk
skidding in the damp, slowing
down like a man fighting a tide,
like a man giving up. I scooped

it out. It weighed nothing,
yet felt Prehistoric. I waited for the bite.
House spiders don’t bite.
This one panted in my palm.

I opened the window and eased it out.
It stumbled out onto the ledge,
blinded by the early august sun, the birdsong.
He staggered forward and used his two

largest legs to rear up and survey
the bright world around him.
Like Man coming out of the Cave.
I forgot him for a moment, looked

away, prepared to shower. A sudden
scuffle. A bird on the window ledge.
I looked out and saw the bird launch
into the sky, the spider in its jaws.


• Matthew Friday is a professional writer and graduate of the MA in Creative Writing at Goldsmith College, London. He has had poems accepted for publication in the following magazines: Carillon, Earth Love, Finger Dance Festival, The New Writer, Pens on Fire, Pulsar and Red Ink. He has also received a special mention in Poetry News and won 3rd prize in Writing Magazine's Valentine Day poetry competition.

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