Mirror Magic

The mirror in the garden pond is cracked with rushes, irises, rotting leaves and watercress; a single poppy lingers on, pale petals promise oblivion. In the mirror of the garden spade, a toad with its glittering topaz gaze, legs akimbo and puffed up body dangles from the shiny blade, toxin flooding warty membrane. Mirror, mirror […]


no church bell no alarm bell just the body clock warning and a stormy morning outside the window later, the man on the radio says the Nobel prize for literature has been awarded to Kazuo Ishiguro, whose stories will never let me go unconsoled in the pale view of hills, an artist of the floating […]