top of page

Flowers of Youth

The scarlet pimpernel
lurked in every hedgerow.

Eyebright scoured
the verges for him.

‘Forget me not’
was whispered
from secret locations.

A shepherds purse
could not pay
the ransom.

Tongueless bells
tinkled silently
in the woodlands
as lilies wept
in the valley.

© Nicky Hetherington
(Previously published in Iota magazine.)

Haiku

Storm-scattered debris

surfs swollen winter river

into sculptor’s hands.

© Nicky Hetherington

2nd Prize in Writing Magazine's Haiku Competition 2017

Moral Compass

 

I don’t use sat nav.

Should I?

Should I let a machine

do my thinking for me?

Make my decisions for me?

Would it be more

reliable

less … susceptible

to human error.

 

Clear, calculating

cold hard facts:

road works

traffic jams

toll booths

comfort stops.

 

No scenic routes

no mystery tours

no losing your way

no finding yourself.

 

You used to be

the moral compass

by which I could

test my own

ensure it was still true.

 

No distraction

from other attractions

fluctuating magnetisms

schisms.

 

Now you are lost

and I am lost.

 

But I will not use sat nav.

I will seek the landmarks

we both knew.

I will ask the stars

for guidance.

I will find myself

anew.  

© Nicky Hetherington

First published in Roundyhouse

bottom of page