She’d been on a retreat in the middle of nowhere: no television, radio, internet or signal on her phone. She rose and retired with the sun, wrote until lunchtime, and walked in the afternoons. She’d watched a lark rise in the March sky and a falcon dive into gorse. She talked to trees and picked […]
Day: April 13, 2020
Thirteen Squared
Remember all the lies, belittling stares, derisive laughter, heat of scarlet shame, a wake that followed after preserved in ink, the aspic of the literati picking on the bones of every poet at the feast? You hoped they’d disappear, stuffed-shirted corpses, gilt with attitude and privilege, but no, their breath still lingers, the cloying scent […]
writing in north norfolk 