Being a Mother I look back and ask, how did we get by? Was there too much angling after exactness? Did I promise you something and fail? Unfathomable, the way things become, like winter, a stretch of bare garden. Gone the violets, the brittle...
The Trickster Talks of her Tears I wake and, for no reason other than life itself, my face feels like it’s made of tears, and they creep along the insides of my eyelids, like rain shifts across a windscreen at speed, but somehow they’re only ghosts of...
The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place Be secretive – don’t make confidences, at most drop hints. Be small bright flowers – peripheral, almost overlooked. Have aliases, a sudden sweet smell at sunrise, a choir in the distance from...
Gravitational Lensing Our eyes crave baths of light— flickering playgrounds of shivering stars an image of a blue arc on the rim coiling around clusters of galaxies the vivid shimmer behind you in the garden as the torch frames your silhouette in...
Stranger There’s an opening in the clouds like the sky has fallen and grazed its knee. The bus is idling at the side of the road as more passengers clamber aboard. A man is crying, loudly and uncontrollably. Each tear fastens itself to an eye for...
One touch and you Become it Playtime in the streets. All of you in a line, behind a Wolf who has his back to you. What time is it Mr Wolf? Four o’clock! He shouts without turning. You let another little girl or boy, too eager for their own...
