Saturday 5 May 2018

3 Poems by Edward Lee


The fly on his back
on the windowsill
is pedalling an invisible bicycle,

or he is dying,
frantically dying,
in the morning sunlight,
as I watch,
sipping my tea
and wondering if I should dress today.


Floating, eyes closed,
I let the current take me,
like a shy lover,
into the moonless night.


They say
we are made of stardust
and all those tired and true
cliches of such,
when the truth is so much simpler:
we have moulded ourselves
and each other;
I am made of you,
and you are made of me,

nothing else.


Edward Lee's poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen and Smiths Knoll.  His debut poetry collection "Playing Poohsticks On Ha'Penny Bridge" was published in 2010. He is currently working towards a second collection.

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