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Poem by Claire Crowther

Eyewear is very glad to welcome Claire Crowther (pictured). I met her a few years ago at a writing workshop in Norwich, and then followed her poems as they appeared in places like The Times Literary Supplement, Poetry Review, and Magma (she was featured there Winter 2006). She's a very good poet, and it is splendid news her collection is out.

Crowther spent many years as a consumer journalist, editor and director of communications in the British media industry. She began writing poetry nine years ago. Her work has been selected for several anthologies; current examples are We are Twenty People (Enitharmon Spring 2007) and Only Connect (Cinnamon Press 2007).

Her first collection Stretch of Closures (Shearsman Press) was recently published in January 2007. Two years ago, she was offered a bursary by Kingston University to write a full length second collection of poetry on the theme of grandmotherhood. This is due out from Shearsman Press in November 2008.


Even the rock smells its mortality,
even through millennia. Even granite
senses its exfoliation. She is

determined to see Bridal Veil Fall
but he, scared of such a steep gradient,
a cliff falling away to one side,

no fence to the path, grips any
girth, bole or boulder. Going, going,
ready or not, she shouts ahead of him.

Clouds skip flimsy dresses across the sky.
He watches out for streams, gullies,
twists his ankle tripped by swallow-holes,

stumbles over roots. Here at last
is the green lace, aqua silk,
torn, wrinkled, its slippery nature

pouring away, less like Niagara
than tears, and her, a full cast
of his own damp, uncommon faces.

first published in Ambit 183, Winter 2006; reprinted by permission of the author
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