Em Gray
@em-words.bsky.social
960 followers 630 following 150 posts
She/her. Words in The Forward Book of Poetry, Propel, Mslexia, Strix, Arachne Press & more.🌱FTA. Dyspraxia. Foxes.
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em-words.bsky.social
I'd heard of a rare #squirrel a couple of times on local Facebook groups...and found him today - isn't he beautiful!
em-words.bsky.social
ah fantastic news! Congratulations - hope there was a little mossy celebratory dance 💚
em-words.bsky.social
thank you so much!
em-words.bsky.social
Thank you so much to you both for choosing UFO - and to @hollyannepoet.bsky.social for the spelling keen eye, and your patient emails 💚
em-words.bsky.social
I feel there's a poem here :-)
em-words.bsky.social
1st October is the start of the annual #pheasant shooting season. I wrote this unpraise poem with these poor birds in mind. If you have a moment, please consider signing this @animalaid.org.uk petition to end the shooting of birds in the UK -

action.animalaid.org.uk/page/135232/...
em-words.bsky.social
'These days, the only poems that really embarrass me are the ones that refuse to wrestle in some way with their own smallness and contingency—to acknowledge that a page of poetry is not the same kind of place as a town hall or a war zone or a protest or a poll site.'

yalereview.org/article/mill...
Maggie Millner: “Is Mary Oliver Embarrassing?”
A reckoning with Mary Oliver’s reputation as an unserious poet explores how her best work has been misunderstood.
yalereview.org
em-words.bsky.social
This year's 2 cubs I watch from my window are growing beautifully, and now have their adult coats and eye colours. What a serene looking face this little one has 🧡
Photo of a red fox kit who is about 2-3 months old. They have their adult coloured coat and their eyes have darkened now to a dark amber. They are sitting amongst grass with some buttercups growing, and is looking to the left and in profile. They look watchful but calm.
Reposted by Em Gray
georgemonbiot.bsky.social
We celebrate the bull, believed to have escaped from an abattoir, that ran loose in Birmingham, yet almost everyone participates in the cruel and grisly trade in body parts which keeps abattoirs in business.
em-words.bsky.social
obscure and relatable at the same time. May the dreams resolve.
em-words.bsky.social
Fox Villas news 🧡 - there are only two cubs this year, but they are beauties - a boy and a girl with lovely chunky legs to grow into. Here is the bolder of the two.
Photo of a fluffy red fox cub. S/he is almost head on to the camera and standing, looking slightly to the side. S/he now has adult colours, although s/he still has the pale (and intense looking!) eyes of cubs, that will probably darken a bit. S/he stands on grass starred with buttercups.
em-words.bsky.social
Welcome, little one. Here beginneth #chick (gull-let? Gullet?) season.
Photo of a one day old herring gull chick sitting amongst dry moss next to cracked egg shell. Their beak is wide open, their pointed pink tongue protruding. Their feathers are fluffy and beige with dark spots like a pebble/seal pup/the egg they came from.
em-words.bsky.social
I so loved your poem and reading, Olga - what an unexpectedly magical and meaningful Facebook group to have discovered!
em-words.bsky.social
Thank you so much, Corinna, I'm really glad you enjoyed them 💚
em-words.bsky.social
Ah, you're welcome! I did some suspicious looking lurking near floral/green places near my flat. Thank you again so much for giving these poems such a lovely home 🧡
em-words.bsky.social
Honoured to have two poems in this beautiful anthology from @sidhepress.bsky.social. All proceeds go to The Sameer Project. The physical book is available from Amazon, and the ebook is just 5.99 Euros, and can be purchased directly from Sidhe Press here: www.sidhe-press.eu/product/to-l...
Photo of anthology 'To Lay Sun Into A Forest', propped on old stone wall and leaning against leaves and small blue flowers. 

Cover of To Lay Sun Into A Forest- Poems About Grief by Sídhe Press. On the left there is a quote : The wide-ranging community of poets chart grief across a galaxyof stars, lands, and the oceans, through the shivering leaves oftrees, to the heartbeats of loved ones, their losses are encapsulatedin words that stay with us, long after we close the book.
Teresa Pilgrim, academic, creative practitioner, activist, survivor
On the right, there is a swirl of a painting, red, yellow, orange, you can see the brushstrokes. On it is the title in a handwriting font. Photo of poem by Em Gray, titled 'all of this is normal', that reads;

to wait at glass for unseasonal butterflies / 
strange weather / tameness

to seek counsel from hellebores /
carry a person-faced stone

to continue to omit sage / chilli / juniper
despite a love for them

to adopt a worn shirt as support animal 

to darn a requiem of socks

to fear what is melting	
but leave the lamp on

to hear from the empty kitchen 	
devotions of tea

to recur together sleep-limbed
in borrowed coats / on unfamiliar benches

to press call 		then name yourself stupid 

for believing loss a mastless hill /
a loft /		a swift /	          a door 
Photo of poem by Em Gray, titled 'Remembrance Day for Lost Species' (after The Christmas Island Pipistrelle), that reads:

You are two paragraphs. 

I'm sorry 

for the Feral of cat,
the Wolf of freighted snake 

and how the microfiction 
of your body
is the size of a prune's 
dark shrivel, stone heart.

All, now, is elegy. 

I seek the lore of you so always everywhere
you'd fly through open doors, missteer into soup

but find your seed bead eyes 
flash-lit,

eleven seconds 
of the last recording of your voice 

looping its morse 
as if to be understood.