Suspended on the air, the tang of dead leaves, breath of wood smoke, tingle of frost and echoes in twilight. A full moon, pearly white touches reflections splintering the night, tinged with bright Christmas lights. Twinkling headlights, streetlight’s glow, and intimate lamp-lit windows remind us that now it’s time to go home. In the darkening […]
Tag: Tuesday Poetics
Of Clouds and Sea
No sky’s completely cloudless, there are clouds we cannot see, tiny breathless drops of hope above a hopeless sea. Although we know it’s boundless, and its waves forever restless, human beings can be feckless in the ocean’s cold embrace, and our bodies spiral, weightless, to the bottom of the sea. But our atoms, although formless, […]
Nettles
We are not subtle, although we blend, green in the midst of green, our sting, our poison bating our green breath with not a quiver. Hiding in the green, we remain unseen, waiting pungently for a patch of skin a recipient for our histamine; we long to puncture a scarlet tattoo, stinging souvenirs. Our hairy, […]
Sharp Teeth
I grew up to the sound- track of waves all around this tiny little island where trees offer cool shade and fruit of the brightest colours the one setback was the sharks that lurked in the water and fed on my family bled it dry drop by drop until it was just me in the […]
Early Morning Visit from the Owl
In the early hours of morning, my heart swooped from birch to willow when an owl called at the window, a fluty, chilly shiver. Through the tilted slats of the blind, the honeyed amber flash of eyes and fluttering ‘You-ooh-ooh’ drew me to the frost-kissed pane, froze my breath in a cloud of ‘Oh!’ as […]
Star Birth
How much gas does a mother need? Forget the air – there’s none in space. Energy and gravity played their part, pulling together at the heart of the conception, a passionate ménage à trois. A single push excruciatingly long, squeezing an interstellar nebula into a brand-new star, a twinkle in its mother’s eye, a cosmic […]
Without black there would be no contrast
nowhere to hang the moon and stars fireworks and bonfire sparks no colour to express the dog of depression no clarity of words in books no shadows in the sleep-soaked room at night the pair of complicit magpies haunting the garden (two for joy) would be all white their once glossy jet feathers and impertinent […]
Your Voice
I have heard songbirds’ over- lapping whistles, the whisper of sparrow wings wheeling on the breeze, raindrops bouncing off dusty autumn paths, and the rattling somersaults of the last leaves from trees. I’ve listened to the sun sizzle into evening, bats flicker in cooling twilight air, snowflakes kissing a frozen window- pane, a cat purring […]
A Question of Tears
‘From where does the thundercloud come with its black sacks of tears?’- Neruda Black sacks of tears arrived on my doorstep today; I thought they’d been delivered by the coalman, until I opened them, and some teardrops got away, attaching themselves to leaves and gutters, dripping on my shoulder, soaking my jacket like a sobbing […]
Portrait in Chalk and Charcoal
He leans into the pavement, close enough to kiss the cold hardness of it, squinting through a dusting of charcoal. There’s a smear on his cheek that points to his ear, red with cold. He has coalminer’s fingers and a cough that rattles his ribs. The jacket across his shoulders has seen better days, but […]
writing in north norfolk 