“A few snowflakes fall between the tree and the hollow ground. Those yew trees are grown over the fence now…”
A poem against borders, by Julia Rose Lewis.
“Travelling back and forth is a privilege, but I’ve developed a sort of chronic homesickness. So I use writing about the place I’m longing for as an antidote; I see islands as stories and stories as islands.” Julia Rose Lewis, The Missing Slate’s Poet of the Month for June 2016, in conversation with Katy Lewis Hood.