It’s a ghost in the night that keeps me awakewith whispering, muttering, sighing,and nudges in my poetic ribs.It pokes me with imageryand ties me up in allegoryuntil I reach for notebook and pen. It’s a ghost in the early morning, a wispof verse draped across my aching neck,a metaphoric albatrosschecking rhymes, ensuringenjambment and caesura makesense, […]
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writing in north norfolk 