About the poet
Stewart Conn is one of Scotland’s more softly spoken bards, but his particular Celtic muse is no...
Cherry Tree, at Dusk
The gales have, this past week,
been worse than at the equinox;
leaves spiralling, as though
caught in a thermal; the main bough
of next door’s sycamore crazily
overhanging. Through it all, amazingly,
the blossom has clung on:
each bloom, a tiny beacon.
from The Touch of Time: New and Selected Poems (Bloodaxe, 2014), © Stewart Conn 2014, used by permission of the author and the publisher.
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