N COMPETITION No 277 you were invited to write a poem called . The entries were vivid: half domestic, half outdoor. Tim Lloyd observed that ‘A bin lorry approaching in reverse/Sounds like an asthmatic seal.’ Liz Piper remembered, during lockdown, ‘I run along the white line/Down the middle of the street,/No one else is near me – /Just the pounding of my feet.’ John going to Tony Douglass’s single-mindedly warlike birds.
