Anna King

Four Children

"And I sat with my back to the skies as I mouthed out a prayer to the winds and imagined them ghosts; for where I sat, half-anaesthetised, four children had used to sit"

Sun sets, small town

So the masks are sloughed off, and my heart stretches a shining ladder, reaches

In Regions Clear, and Far

there is no us without this city. Oxford is ours

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