August
The weather is unseasonably cold, the flat’s floorboards cold. In the garden the courgette flowers but fails to fruit. The…
This is May
The soot sunk clouds have gone — to blacken someone else’s landscape. The tugging, ripping, girl-fight wind that stole the…
Spring
The sparrows banter in the bushes that crowd the walls of the World’s End alleyway as I walk to the…
Words
Late afternoon I speak to Mum on the phone; she’s sorting through her past, four hundred or so odd-sized photographs.…
Daffodils
These sprightly flowers are no cowards. They poke forth sun seeking heads, proudly proclaim when earth remains clenched in winter’s…
Bike
I sold the sleek black bike you said I should buy. My special treat, in the shop, on my own,…
Stalker
The moon comes knocking on our door; a slavish stalker who hangs around all night. The slowest of walkers, he…
Black Knight
A few forgotten objects Dad passed on: copperplate pens with long nail nibs, still stained black, one coal-fire red, laid…
