the eyes of men
turn to an hour glass figure

whether, this is education
or a memory of mother, is hard to say

but we decry the notion
whilst admiring, the cut and nip of her parabolas

the flow
from one globe to another

like the convenience of eggs, time passes
we turn the glass

watch the hour
note that our fingers grow longer

our skin tighter
that gravity has had its way

drop by drop (minute by minute)
the charm of the glass, fades

we turn the hour
the hour turns, to the thought that all flesh is mortal

Gareth Writer-Davies – Commended in the Prole Laureate Competition, the Welsh Poetry Competition and the Sherborne Open Poetry Competition (2015).

Shortlisted for the Bridport Prize and the Erbacce Prize (2014).

His pamphlet “Bodies”, was published in 2015  through Indigo Dreams and his next pamphlet “Cry Baby” will be published in 2017.