It was never spoken about
but I knew my aunt was a witch
her familiar an overweight
sausage dog named Bowley
who needed three times more
magic that is usual
to fly with her on moonlit
errands over cabbage fields
where I would have taken root
if not for the secret words she
passed to me along with
the train fare to Nottingham
handed secretly beneath
the green topped kitchen table
Andrew Turner started writing poetry in 2015. To date he has been published in ink Sweat and Tears, unevenfloor poetry, Obsessed with Pipework and Prole. He is also shortly due to appear in Under The Radar. He lives in Staffordshire and works with young people with learning disabilities.
These are great poems – I looked you up after reading your excellent ‘When I was still soft and small’ in The Interpreter’s House. sharon black
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