‘The Stars’ by Vasiliki Albedo

My jelly legs are off the couch 
by grace of Prozac. Four months indoors 
and the neighbourhood is treason. 
Despite the heat, I find myself 

in the once empty lot, where my cousins 
pitched the ball and timid Jon kissed me 
on a picnic blanket after school. 
Now, a commercial complex 

scaffolds the plot, declaring itself 
progress. I walk past an abandoned 
house where wisteria intoxicates 
the concrete walls. In the distance

forest and rapeseed fields stand 
dishonest in their promise of profit. 
All around me summer ensues. 
More fires are imminent. Dust blown 

from the Sahara toffees the air,
each year the desert spreads a little 
closer. I remember the words 
desire and disaster spring from the same root – 

the stars, which tonight will be shrouded. 
Wind plucks almond flowers, my breath. 
Mountains buckle the horizon, their sun 
fizzing like a heartburn tablet.

From issue 18: autumn/winter 2024

About the Author
Vasiliki Albedo’s poems have appeared in Poetry Review, Poetry London, The London Magazine, Poetry Wales and elsewhere. She has been commended in the National Poetry Competition, the Hippocrates Prize and the Ambit competition. She won the Poetry Society’s Stanza competition in 2022, and Hammond House International Literary Prize for Poetry in 2023.