Day 51
L emailed me after yesterday’s post about the internal voice to let me know that it reminded her of the Highly Sensitive Person trait, and sent me a link to… Continue Reading
Browsing Category: Poetry
Day 38
The cat is drinking water out of paint can lids again. Yesterday’s rain is fresher than indoor water. She Has always done this, prefers a dirty puddle to A clean… Continue Reading
Day 23
Last night, of course, I had many ideas for what I was going to write this morning. Now, woken from strange dreams (including one that involved incessantly phoning a football… Continue Reading
Day 21
Four eagles in a row escape from the horizon, The line of land that defines understanding, Beyond which everything is unknown. They’re tin cans full of souls Fighting gravity and… Continue Reading
Day 18
I have lost the moon. It was here yesterday, and now it’s gone. They will say ‘How can God misplace the moon?’ But I am not God. I am no… Continue Reading
Day 17
old light seeps in through tiny rents in the bubble of a universe shrouded in untouchable frost night is a dark ravage unlit by an unseen sun below the horizon… Continue Reading
Day 16
You were wrong, Thomas Stearns, with your parchment voice, Your cracked vowels, your indifferent style of reading, And the hissing of your consonants, broken syllables. January is the month which… Continue Reading
Day 12
second frost you’ve seen winters worse than this when the cold bleached your bones from the inside out, and cats lost their ears asleep against barns and trees, metal fences,… Continue Reading
Day Seven
The magpies are chattering again Passing messages from cork oak to cork oak In the northwest wind. They ignore the lore of One for sorrow, two for joy, Too busy… Continue Reading
evening kick-off
the floodlights make the air visible swathes of atoms dance giant moths rise to the heat and light of the last evening of summer he stands outside the stadium awake… Continue Reading