Sheffield, this evening (you can also be among the first to pick up advance copies of Fay Musselwhite's new collection, which will be on early sale at the event)

Free Verse Poetry Book Fair flyer

We'll be among the 60+ poetry publishers at the Free Verse Poetry Book Fair on Saturday 25 April: hope to see you there.

St Columba’s Hall, Pont Street, London, SW1X 0BD (near Knightsbridge & South Kensington tubes). 12pm-6.30pm. Free entry. Further info:
poetrysociety.org.uk/event/free-v...

Sheffield, this evening (you can also be among the first to pick up advance copies of Fay Musselwhite's new collection, which will be on early sale at the event)

Ash heaps, Thorpe Marsh Power Station, South Yorkshire, April 2025.

Join us on Tuesday for Habitation: poems on the theme of land/class/nature with Angelina D’Roza, Steve Ely, Pete Green, Rob Hindle, Chris Jones, Fay Musselwhite.

Tue 21 April
The Harlequin, 108 Nursery St, Sheffield, S3 8GG

Free entry, all welcome. Book here:
www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/habitation...

Cover of 'The Gleaning' by Fay Musselwhite. Trees and dark green landscape artefacts overlaid on an urban scene.

While forest furs the earth, a subterrain
shrugged from shrubbery and trees
mulches over land’s rock-bones,
our lungs unpleat and iron streams our veins.

'The Gleaning'
Fay Musselwhite
A new collection

Published by Longbarrow Press
Publication date: 30 April 2026
Pre-orders from 22 April

A unique 'collective' reading with six Longbarrow poets in Sheffield tomorrow evening (Tuesday 21 April). Hope to see you there.

Another lovely cover from @longbarrowpress.bsky.social…

Thanks! Artwork by @fayay.bsky.social

Ooh, I'm looking forward to this one!

Thanks Abbi - we'll also have 'advance' copies at the 'Habitation' event tomorrow evening (am currently unboxing the newly-arrived books)

Cover of 'The Gleaning' by Fay Musselwhite. Trees and dark green landscape artefacts overlaid on an urban scene.

While forest furs the earth, a subterrain
shrugged from shrubbery and trees
mulches over land’s rock-bones,
our lungs unpleat and iron streams our veins.

'The Gleaning'
Fay Musselwhite
A new collection

Published by Longbarrow Press
Publication date: 30 April 2026
Pre-orders from 22 April

Many thanks to everyone who's shared and followed this (unusually slow) walk-in-progress over the past two weeks. The full thread (122 posts) is below.

A unique 'collective' reading with six Longbarrow poets in Sheffield tomorrow evening (Tuesday 21 April). Hope to see you there.

Flyer for Sheaf Poetry at The Victoria, 1 Rowland St, Sheffield S3 8DE on Sun 26 April, 2pm-4pm

As part of Sheffield Indie Book Fest, Sheaf Poetry has curated a session for 'Speakers' Corner' at The Victoria. Poets inc. Fay Musselwhite, Pete Green, SHALdo, Aaron Stephenson, Anzal Omar, & Tokoni Olobio

The Victoria, 1 Rowland St, Sheffield S3 8DE
Sun 26 April | 2pm-4pm | Free, no need to book

The River Don at Sprotbrough

Stone marking high floodwater at Mexborough

The River Don on a sunny winter day

Combined sewer outfall on the River Don

Do you live or work in South Yorkshire? If so, what does the River Don mean to you? Sewage? Filth? Or recovery and the return of salmon and otters? Come and explore what it means to be an ecological citizen at one of our workshops next month: forms.office.com/e/3jS3hgAp3P

It spread out over two weeks, but now you can scroll up to the top and follow along on this remarkable walk

South Dakota Review 100% real handmade literature

hello. I am now the editor of South Dakota Review, a bonus job that came with my job. people keep asking me about "submitting" (huh) "poems" (hmm) but I only want to read about the weather.

southdakotareview.wordpress.com

Many thanks to everyone who's shared and followed this (unusually slow) walk-in-progress over the past two weeks. The full thread (122 posts) is below.

Thank you, Kate

Platform 2 of Goole Railway Station. 9.52pm, 2 April 2026.

9.40pm. The station at night. Six passengers on the southbound platform. All of us elsewhere. In time. We watch as the clock resets. We wait as the delay is recalculated. Ten minutes and twelve minutes and finally eleven minutes. At the end of the concourse. Unexpected light rain. 122/end

To come so far without flags. The last mile of lampposts. Every hundred feet or so. Limp as dishcloths or twisted around the mast. Some of them are snagged in the branches of leafing trees. As I turn left for the railway station, I see another, subdued by cherry blossom, struggling to be free. 121/

The only lights on the road to Goole are headlights and brake lights. There's nothing that I need to see. The M62 is closing the distance. Flashes of yellow as the A614 nears the motorway. Full beam of northbound traffic on the crest of the bridge. Vergeside daffodils in blinding constellation. 120/

The low-lit Boothferry Bridge at night. 2 April 2026.

8.55pm. The low lane to the junction, the high road to the bridge, one folding back on the other. As the pavement rises I see the locked yard I passed ten minutes earlier, some sort of depot, long brick sheds and concrete ramps. Girders lit by passing cars. The M62 to the east. The Ouse below. 119/

Brick-mounted sign for Booth, a few miles north of Goole, 2 April 2026.

The path slips off the bank and leaves me at the end of a lane. Sudden glare of street lights and house lights. A handful of detached properties and all the security that floods my wake. I can see Boothferry Bridge just ahead, it isn't far, but there is no way up, only around, via Booth. 118/

8.35pm. None of the light finds the path. Only navigation lights on the north bank. I think I glimpse the confluence of the Ouse and the Aire to the south before losing both rivers and all of the turbines behind the dense dark woods that fill out the meander. No map. No way of knowing. 117/

No moon. No stars. New lights, bearing north, on parallel planes in the east. One near, one far. One fast, one slow. Eventually I work out that the fast-moving lights in the near distance are cars on Boothferry Bridge and the slow-moving lights further off are vehicles on the elevated motorway. 116/

8.20pm. Clusters of light, south of the river, close enough to count, too far to get a fix on. Red and white and static. Is it the industries at Rawcliffe, it could be, they burn through the night, how close is Rawcliffe, two miles, four miles, is it something else, then, something in the way. 115/

8.10pm. One or two birds still singing. I can hear the wind turbines across the water, more thrum than swish, it's not the sound of the blades that carries, it's the internal machinery, the gearbox, bearings and generator. Low frequencies. Flat distances. Path darkening. Ouse widening. 114/

So this long thread by @longbarrowpress.bsky.social is still going and I recommend it for an account of a long spare walk in thin cool lands with a hint of @hookland.bsky.social tending to long low horizons.