Story

Connor Jordan

Melisande goes in the garden. Open eyes in the trees.
Puddles look. Dry leaves whisper.

Pelleas rides a white horse over the mountain.
The blue sky rests on his shoulder, raising its wing.
He does not sing. Moths sleep in the bushes.

Shall they meet at noon? Under the apple tree?
The sky will blink with astonishment
when the lovers, rose bush and ivy,
clasp leaves and tendrils.

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Connor Jordan currently attends Artemis School of Speech and Drama in England. He has published in Stirring, Poetry Monthly, Poetry Otherwise, and has a poem forthcoming in Poetry Scotland.