On the Eleventh Day of Christmas we bring you Kymm Coveney, Belinda Rimmer, Zach Jackson




Care and Management of a New Year

Hold at arm’s length, remembering how
the predecessor scorched. Raw skin,
ready to heal, flinches under a moonlit

Ring ting-a-ling.

Pull an arm’s length of rope, hefting
extra holiday weight. Those bells
need to peal. Shoulder to the wheel
till they swing.

Begin anything.

Stride an arm’s length to start, heel
to toe the only way to go. Forward,
onward. Flap your tattered cobwebbed
lengths of string.

Flicker of wings.

Spread one arm’s length east; one west.
Race Icarus to this sun’s sun, unseen
unstrung. Lasso beams into chords.

Pick, strum, ping.

Sing into being.



Kymm Coveney was born in Boston, lives in Spain and works as a freelance translator and writer. Flash fiction, poems and translations can be found online and at BetterLies.




Waiting for Snow

He hangs back while the others steal from our bird feeders.
His favourite place: high in a spruce tree
by a stream with a Latin name none us can pronounce.

Battle scarred, a ripped ear and tail, missing a clump of fur,
he’s the only white squirrel around. I feel his difference
as if it were my own, like not fitting in, but fiercer.

I hold my breath when the foxes come at dawn or dusk.
A white squirrel, fur loud as a siren, glaring.
If I hear a frenzied chatter-chatter, I grab a broom

to chase the foxes away, knowing they’ll be back.
Maybe the white squirrel is part cat, of nine lives,
drawing on speed and luck. I’ve followed him through seasons.

This winter is the coldest yet. Our garden thick with snow.
The foxes linger, hungry for prey. For the first time,
the white squirrel sails the trees, comes to the feeder

alone to take his fill of nuts. His difference now has him singing
and stepping jauntily into forbidden corners.
A rapid thaw. I find him

back in the spruce tree
by the stream with its unpronounceable name.
He’s white as spume, as moon, in a sea of green.



Belinda Rimmer’s poems are widely published. In 2018, she came second in the Ambit Poetry Competition. She was joint runner-up in this year’s Stanza Poetry Competition. She is also joint winner of the Indigo-First Pamphlet Competition, 2018, with her pamphlet, Touching Sharks in Monaco.




  A Round of Robins

Off with your gloves

six miraculous little furnaces
ablaze in the darkling
sockets of the sycamore,
igniting the gloam
like an old newspaper
from its corner.



Zach Jackson is a writer from North Yorkshire, based just outside the Brecon Beacons national park in Wales. His work has been shortlisted for Eyewear Publishing’s Christmas Fortnight award, and his debut poetry pamphlet was released last year.

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