Ok. We know it doesn’t really feel like July in England at the moment. In fact, it feels more like April, so perhaps we ought to be posting poems about lambs and Easter… But we’re going to go by the calendar, rather than all our other senses (a rare thing for poets), and give you something summer-based.
The following poem is by Kazim Ali, born in the UK and currently living in American. You can read a far more detailed biography of him here, courtesy of the Poetry Foundation.


By Kazim Ali

We lay down in the graveyard, hinged there.
Emerald moss growing thickly in the chiseled letters.
You’re explaining how trees actually breathe.
Green in the names and trees went up to join gray in the sky.
Then the gray-green sky came down in breaths to my lips and sipped me.
Poem taken from the Poetry Foundation.

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