Every Wounded Soul: a poem by Nick Power

9 December 2017 // Poetry

Every wounded soul all the pulled-apart nerves and knotted guts hearts that are heavy as a hundred-ton feelings that coalesce in some boiler-room immersion tank of the spirit I sense them all I receive their marking of time I endure their counsel I wait on abandoned platforms for trains work jobs that pay in wads of grubby notes beyond a bottlegreen signalpost there pushing into open sky a bird with black and white plumage glides across the salt marsh

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Nick’s collections Small Town Chase, Holy Nowhere, and the newly released Caravan are available to buy here.

Nick Power on Caught by the River/on Twitter

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