Cat Campbell





The tree didn’t plan its shape.

Each shoot budded and grew
toward the light.

The flock never plots its form.
Each bird takes off and flies
from its neighbours.

The crowd couldn’t chart its course.
It raged and kicked and burnt and tore
of its own accord.




Cat Campbell lives in Cambridge, UK where she spends as much time as possible writing and dancing.  Her poems have recently been published in Magma, Under the Radar and The Lighthouse.

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