Magic is
Wet clothes sticking to skin
Sinking boots, mud crawling in
Ink running through tangled footpaths
Scrambled grid references
Clouds dripping into fog
Draping over fences
Aching legs, blistered body
Kendal Mint Cake crumbs
Wind whipped cheeks
Sleet slithering through waterproofs
Blue lips and fingertips
Splashes of colour in the grey eclipse
Then turning the corner
To stumble upon sunflower fields
Stretching towards a horizon
Streaked with Love-in-a Mist blue
Izzy Searle is a neurodivergent poet from Sussex. Her writing is featured on the International Network of Italian Theatre and she has a poetry anthology in the process of publication. In her spare time, Izzy loves to hike and volunteer at Scouts.