They have been with me since childhood,piquant little ghosts that haunt me. Their white bones long for words,the flesh of their existence. I call out to them in the dead of nightand, in a moonbeam of ecstasy, words appear, freshly-baked poemsrouse me, their mille-feuille pastry crumbling at the ferocity of my pen, a sweetnessthat may […]
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writing in north norfolk 