I lie beneath this rusted cross of curlicues,surrounded by these muted churchyard hues,alone among lichen-covered stones,in the peaceful housing of my crumbled bones. You’re imagining my life, how bright my smilefor parents, siblings, husband, perhaps a child;you know my my name, the date when I was born –and died – but no idea of those […]
Tag: Alice
Discovering the White Rabbit
After early showers on a capricious Saturday in May, lunchtime is bathed in balmy sunshine. The shady toll path bustles with strollers and joggers, all inhaling spring’s steamy promise, and echoes with a coxswain’s voice counting rowers’ strokes. On the opposite bank, a swan stretches; alert to danger, she watches over cygnets hidden in a […]
I saw this when I went for a walk to the local church this week
Alice’s Grave A rusted cross of curlicues Among lichen-covered stones: I know your final resting place, The housing of your bones, Your name, Alice. I know the date when you were born And when you died – no trace Of husband or children left to mourn. Who were you, Alice? Who did you love and […]
writing in north norfolk 