Caught by the River

Afterwards: a poem by Will Burns

Will Burns | 31st March 2017

My mother’s last days
were the end of a winter
that had become only
rolling blackout into blackout—
a time I had no hold on.
All news held a kind of dread
but ours, when it came,
felt like coming to.
A dimness in an old room,
a sense of certain things in absence.
Two sisters agreeing under the apple tree
that the gathered speed
with which everything was being
done was just plain wrong.


Will, one of our poets-in-residence, reads at a number of our upcoming events, including our night with ‘Scotland’s favourite avant-garde noisemakers’ Neu! Reekie! at The Social, London, on Wednesday 26 April. A full rundown of our forthcoming events can be found on our Facebook page.

Will Burns on Caught by the River / Twitter