Some rooms are burrows,

   webs, caves. This one

is made from books.

   The way a bird

brings leaf or twig,

   these lettered spines

were brought to weave

   this nest into the wall.

Sunlight enters, striped.

   The air’s a ruled page,

the nib of each pen becomes

   a beak in cursive flight.

[Since studying at the University of Reading and the University of St Andrews, Isabel Galleymore's poems have been published in Poetry Review, The Rialto and Poetry London amongst other magazines. Most recently, Isabel was awarded a Hawthornden Fellowship. She is currently researching environmental poetics and pedagogies for an AHRC-funded PhD at the University of Exeter. ]

Copyright © 2012 by Isabel Galleymore, all rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of Copyright law. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the notification of the journal and consent of the author.