Astronaut, and Other Poems, by Dominic Rivron


No need to move
from the chair
where you can sit
fooling everyone
who forgets that the moon
(along with the blackbirds)
exists only in our heads

all it takes
is a word
and before you know it
you’re setting off
your pockets full of poetry
and apples


The Things We Saw on the Way

a man with a bicycle
pushing it uphill

a hole in a wall and car
upside down in a field

a waterfall turned to icicles
the river below it to ice

the moon behind a tree
that looked like a man

turned to stone
while waving his arms

or was it a man
turned to stone

who looked like a tree?

it’s a good job we realised
before it was too late



It’s tempting to modify
the 3D landscape projected
inside your head
to force it to comply
with expectations.
You can go so far like this
but no further:
sooner or later
you are forced to turn round
and retrace your steps
back to the place where,
map folded in your pocket,
you set off at a tangent
thinking it merely
a bend in the road.
But then, you may ask,
where were we going?
What’s in a destination?
True, we were looking forward
to the view across the lake
but instead we went for a walk
through the woods and
had I paid attention to the map
we’d have never seen
the bluebells


— by Dominic Rivron


Copyright © 2023, by Dominic Rivron. All Rights Reserved.

Dominic Rivron has been various things, from a care assistant to a piano teacher. His work has been published in a number of magazines, including Scratch, The Poetry Bus, Dream Catcher and Obsessed with Pipework. He lives in the North of England. His blog can be found at

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