Sally Festing
Their Prints Moths, ghosts, my house is full of them. I live with waves of silence but the lives roar enormous through my rooms – hung on walls, stuffed in bookcases, leaking from wounded suitcases tied with string. It rained last night, and the dead came down with the drops – to gather where the land is flat and windblown. The quiet stores their smiles. I press my finger where theirs have been, thread words to tumble them back, all talking, arguing.     Ink, Sweat & Tears 2018 from Sally’s fifth collection of letter-poems, My Darling Derry, available now.  
Poet, biographer, journalist, radio dramatist
Sally Festing
 
 
‘Surfin’
Poet, biographer, journalist, radio dramatist
My Darling Derry, available now. See video (paste to yr. browser)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9ogodyzg2o&feature=youtube
Two days on the road through a brilliant Autumn dazzle, crunching chocolate-covered coffee beans. In between he sings to Dylan, Clapton, Springsteen, Beach Boys and the Beatles. My hand on his lap when he drives, his hand on mine when we swap until who is who                                       isn’t all that clear. Musing through the options for my ring, we’re checking out how far we’ve come, new life, blue skies, moving on. New life. Blue skies. Moving on. We’re checking out how far we’ve come. Musing through the options for my ring, now that who is who                                   isn’t all that clear. His hand on my lap as I drive, mine on his when we swap singing to the Beatles, Beach Boys, Springsteen,     Clapton and Bob Dylan. In between     we’re crunching chocolate-covered coffee beans    through a brilliant Autumn dazzle                            on the road again. Two days we’ll be home.                                                The Spectator, 12.10.2019