Poetry in notions
Just when you think ambition is in remission it jumps out with no warning and cries “new Publisher”, “new edition”, and the old hopes emerge from their hiding place in the bone marrow and turn your life upside down.
“Listen to those contented cows mooing. Oh I love the sounds of the country” they say as they drive past a black herd in a green field. Not seeing, on the other side of the road, black calves, separated just last night from their mothers. Who are crying in pain and fear trying to get … Continue reading Pastoral
The white horse on the far green hill moves all day to a rhythm all her own, following clues in the pasture and the hill shape and the changing shadows from the trees, and some days, for no reason I know, he doesn’t appear at all, and I hope she is all right. He has … Continue reading Vale of the white horse
Whether I am seven and a half or seventy five, the I who looks out of my window is the same I, no matter how he appears to those looking in.