Trembling What I notice first is the trembling, like a piano player trilling the high notes, Art Tatum levitating the house, and the house is the sea, flickering with those bright notes, and the
Balcony Sit with me now in different rooms, beside me at a distance. Come drink a glass of wine onscreen with me for old times’ sake, it’s good for our stomachs too, I
When I Think of the World When I think of the world and all of us in itI see a young father lifting an infantout of her stroller as people go hurrying byand the flash of what shines from
The world had had enough The sea noisily reminded people of her presence / Enough she said / joining in with the wind / Enough
Imagining is our only hope, Obi-Wan Kenobi So I will hold fast to imagining the world I want, and speak my dreams, and look for yours
A Tale for Our Times Once upon a time a baby was born to a couple who lived in the woods. Her mother and father led simple lives, growing food in their vegetable garden, keeping chickens, collecting mushrooms
Risky Down where the sea sprays breaths of mist, salting the air, we’ll meet. It’s risky but we can get away with this. We’ll hide below just beyond the parapet under
Virus Blindfold and noisy they walked into the dark saying it’s ok, it’s nice and light here. And in the dark gravity took over and the mask slipped down and covered their
Jump I have just heard from a most reliable source, that from the perspective of the universe, a second of our time can contain an age...
In a Ditch Before stumbling out of the stinking morass, I cannot remember having fallen from the apple tree, but this must have been the case, striking my head on the large concrete drainage outlet which served up the ditch contents.
Silent Places I’m poised on the top of the Cullin Ridge Ridge, the ridge that strides across the western edge of magical Skye where ghosts of ancient peoples guard the fables of our forbearers.
Everything is Trembling Everything is trembling, like plants in time-lapse films, the first green shoot shaking as if with fear, as it climbs up out of its dark dirt bed. . .
Feet Feet are just the expressionOf your personalityDo you like them?Do they serve you well?Do you take care of them?Probably notThey are the forgottenPart of your body aren’t they ?They
Mend My Life I wasn’t aware that I was different, and never thought of myself as deformed until I was told, quite unkindly.
Homecoming . . .And swings. Please let there be swings. Let there be picnics. And hiding places when life is hard and the only one you can face is your tree. . .
