Windows is shutting down
and grammar are on its last leg
—Clive James

Yesterday. The weather forecast.
A low-pressure system
is trigger widespread showers.

O my English language! You are losing your
inflections. Your peaks and passes, your fells
and dales, your long suffixed and prefixed
conjugations, your ings and ations—
these are my native land,
my forest, its sighing trees,
my home valley, its musical birds,
my village—and you

are being changed. Your strata fracked,
the tops of your ancient hills knocked off
by the careless blades, the need for speed,
of unredacted profit-crazed globalisation—
your streams choked with the turgid sludge
of marketing shite and business jargon …

Okay, my nose wears glasses now,
and I walk the streets with care,
aware of my feet and the endless weight
of the chafing chains of metaphor—
but I never thought that I would ever be
an old woman keening for loss of country.
Yet here I am,

trying to sing in tune
while tune remains,
trying to speak in time

First published in Creatrix 55, December 2021

2022 publications

Jackson’s 2022 poetry and prose publications


Capstone Editing blog, 16 September 2022



Rochford Street Review 33

Poems in anthology

Tempus (Out of the Asylum [OOTA] Writers Group 2022)

  • Ordinary love
  • Turning off time

Poems in journals

The Canberra Times, 21 May 2022

  • A fine specimen

Creatrix 56:

foam:e 19:

London Grip New Poetry, Autumn 2022

London Grip New Poetry, Winter 2022

Meniscus 10(1)

  • Dirt

Quartet 2(1), Winter 2022

  • Líjiāng Reflections (Li River Reflections); nominated for Best of the Net

Tamba 70

  • The tethered goat

Westerly 67.1

  • My father’s toolbox
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