by Runa
Grief
like that dog that barks
and barks
every night in some closed off
back garden somewhere
close
but unknown
like resin oozing
from furs or pines, sticking
and setting inside your hippocampus
like muscle memory
typing words
that make no sense
or tying shoelaces
so loosely
that you must stop
redo
like memories that still appear
as regimented as an appetite
at mealtimes
Right now, it’s 7pm
the howling starts
the dinner table is set
and I’m not hungry
again
David Hanlon is a poet from Cardiff, Wales. You can find his work online in over 90 magazines, including Rust & Moth, Barren Magazine, The Lumiere Review & trampset. His first chapbook Spectrum of Flight is available at Animal Heart Press. You can follow him on twitter @davidhanlon13 and Instagram @hanlon6944.
RUNA was born and lives in Lisbon, Portugal. She graduated from the University of Lisbon, and recently received her Master of Arts in Painting from Fine Arts Faculty of the University of Lisbon (2022). Her master’s thesis focused on the theme of “Artist-Travellers”. RUNA has participated in more than thirty exhibitions, individual and collective, in Portugal, UK, Germany and Italy. Website: www.rutenorte.com / Instagram: rute_norte.