Poems

Nana Ollerenshaw: Two Poems

Sleeping with the Enemy   The insurgents are back in troops so small they can not be seen, hiding themselves in the cover of my body. Only the PET scan whirring and spinning like an armoured car itself can pick these unexpected snipers up in what is called a “Hotspot”. To Be Watched. Tracked. Not Yet Attacked.   Who wants such a foe? courting me still, but disguised, in my bed night and day while I gather my arms, my defence, for the fray.     Tham Luang Countries dream of boys in caves pale, lank-legged boys with bony limbs…

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