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"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare


Phil Powrie has taught film studies in a university in the South of the UK. He has had poems published in South and Ink, Sweat and Tears.

Phil Powrie

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When she opens the curtain she sees the
pavement and passers-by scurrying in the rain,
umbrellas out, flapping in the gusts. They
huddle against each other, gingerly.
When she opens the window, she hears far
as well as near, cars and buses and planes,
occasional interrupted birdsong.
This makes her want to fly. Her eyes squeezed tight,
she tries to imagine the passers-by
as storks, their umbrella wings flapping in
the gusts. They stumble, trying so hard to take
off, to leave everything behind. So
she sings, wondering whether she too is
an umbrella, a cry turned inside out.