Of Pestilence and Politics
Dear R, I’m so glad you’ve written to me. It’s been a long time, and I know that both you and I have been distracted from our correspondence by the… Continue Reading
Browsing Category: Writing
An Accidental Century
All night he’s fought the urge to call her, to hear her voice, to go to her, to lose himself in her arms. Now, out in the middle, on the… Continue Reading
A birthday poem for a daughter alone in lockdown in London
THAT When the world falls apart Words get lost And we become fingerprints in the sand Thrown over by the wind. Corners are straightened, Straits fracture, and lines Are punctured… Continue Reading
The City
The city is a sea In the valley Of seven hills, And a library at its centre, By the gardens And their plants, And peace The centre of its gravity…. Continue Reading
The Aftermath
So I have dragged myself into another spurious new year, and, tired to my bones, long for something different, something completely new. Not this same old same old village, however… Continue Reading