Ellen Shelley

Ellen Shelley lives in Newcastle, Islington. She has been writing poetry for the past three years while raising her four children. Recent successes (2019) were in The Canberra Times, Poetry Matters, Eucalypt, Eureka, It’s Raining Poetry in Adelaide, Highly Commended Philip Bacon Ekphrastic, Other Terrain, Back Story, Not Very Quiet, The Grieve Project, The Ross Spencer Anthology, and Poetica Christie Press.

Don’t look too closely

The cold of winter haemorrhages as raised circles of flesh bump down to skin on knees the texture of underripe peaches, teeth hurt from bighting down the chatter of days bows low. The second cup of coffee turns into a …

Posted in 93: PEACH | Tagged