Carillon Magazine

Poetry from the magazine

 

Choice

Roger Jeffries (Kent)

 

I was in my country, Afghanistan,

It is a beautiful country.

I had a home,

It is a heap of rubble.

I had a family, enough food,

a job, enough money,

all I wanted.

It is all gone.

I am an asylum seeker.

 

Here I am in your country.

It is a beautiful country.

I have the clothes I wear,

no home, no money

or work,

no family,

nowhere to sleep tonight.

I have nothing.

I am going to a secure camp.

I am an illegal immigrant.

 

The Trout Farm

Gerald Hampshire (West Yorks)

 

Under a lemon Autumn sun,

rainbow trout digest pellets

thrown by smelly fingers

while the water boils, bubbles.

 

Jealous gulls fly by,

skim the water,

then head for the local tip

to gorge on rotting take-aways.

 

The cold storage van stands

near frosted sheds,

where men with yellow coats

fill plastic coffins with rainbows

 

And the market stalls are waiting.

Issue 11