which is dedicated to Dr Kim Moore

Kim started off as a poet I admired (a lot), someone who I first encountered (again) online. When I met her at the Kendal Poetry Festival a lifetime ago she was kind and generous and made me realise a lot about my own circumstances. Then, I asked her to be my mentor.

Since then, we have become friends. Her work continues to inspire me, and challenge what I consider to be the acceptable norms and bounds of my own work. She is constantly expanding my horizons and making me consider the consequences of my words.

I spent a month in January of 2024 running the back end of the January Writing Hours (the daily Zoom she runs with Clare Shaw) which was probably one of the happiest times of my life to date. Being trusted with the responsibility completely altered how I felt I could interact with the poetry world.

Kim is someone whose own vulnerability has altered my entire world view. She reminds me to be brave and fearless, and her ability to say the right thing at exactly the correct moment has now become legendary.

I dedicated this poem to her in my 2022 debut pamphlet Flammable Solid.

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Gravity; Falls

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                                                              nobody is listening  

nobody cares   no-one is reaching   out   nobody learns
and to suggest any of these      will ever now take place
under                          presented                  circumstance 

might have been     in certain light
upon                            a story time
language of                      privilege

                                                                                  except                                                                                                                                           
                                                                 that’s never mine

white space          cries at me
between  safety and disaster
might seem          like nothing

                                                                                  except                                                                                                                         
                                                             within the overlaps
gaps between         these trees
we both see      a different hurt
but        our pain’s      the same


                 she told me                      nobody’s coming                                 
                   save yourself                    and so I have

                            yet that white space remains

                                     never   goes   away
                                         never   stops
                                               never

have I    felt safe      or calm      never will     in the dark

nobody can hear                                 what I can    here                                                                                      

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Poem copyright S. Reeson © 2026

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For avoidance of doubt, the Author reserves the rights to this publication. No part of this publication can be utilised or reproduced for the purposes of assisting artificial intelligence technologies. © 2026

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