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      Draenog  What was the Welsh for ‘hedgehog’? That was what he wanted to know. It was a word he could only remember in his sleep when he dreamt of himself as a small boy, barefoot, back in 1966. The sun was shining. He was wandering across fields...

      Tabula Rasa Rectangular, with corners cut off like an octagon, muddy brown shows through the cream exterior where the edges are chipped. Just the right height for a young child learning to stand. Coloured beakers stacked up ready to be knocked...

      How many blows does it take to crack an egg? How many blows does it take to crack an egg? Is a question I never expected to ask If you don’t know, I should tell you, an egg Is what they call the girl inside the male mask When she doesn’t even know...

      Summoning “Pink is the navy blue of India.” Diana Vreeland The hue of brides, appliquéd dark with henna. Citron’s acid curl, vernal blades between teeth. Beneath a virginal sky, weren’t we confections? Pistachio and rosewater, saffron and...

      SURREAL SHEEP I sell the postcard of multi-coloured sheep over and over again. “Done on a computer I suppose” says a lady as she hands over forty pence. “Yes, I expect so” I say. I’ve only seen white, black and brown sheep, earth coloured in the...

      Waiting Room Name called. Not mine. Wasn’t I here first? A new arrival spreads out. One chair always left empty. I glance at copies of National Geographic, Vogue, Woman’s Weekly — all out of date. It’s possible they expired while I was waiting....

      Brine I leave everything on shingle, meet surf like a sibling, crest over playful breakers and chase the moon’s tail. There was salt in my kisses. It preserved us for a while, resisted the putrefaction. Skin on sea-stained sheets. My mind’s water,...

      Hurst Reservoir In the sharpness of a January wind we stepped down, feeling with neoprened feet for the safety of the edge. Bags and clothes huddled on a plastic picnic sheet. We launched, lovingly into dark and silky water unknown yet benign....

      Sanctum Without God You did not ask for knees — They found the floor themselves. Not from command, But gravity. Your name became architecture. Something vaulted. Something echoing. Something built to make small sounds feel holy. I stopped calling...

      Buried That winter the snow kept rising, a slow white wall climbing the windows, each morning untouched, the whole world muffled under it. A hush so complete it felt like a hand pressed gently over the mouth. I pulled on my snow pants, my jacket....

      Bureaucracies of Water I've been reading about ghost apples. They are a real phenomenon, like how everyone we can see on the wide street outside this building is still living, managing thus far, attending appointments, the fissures in their teeth...

      THE APPRENTICE OF GROUNDHOG DAY I tried to work from a van. Sitting in the passenger seat listening to a guy whistle. His frown, a cloud he lost when his mother died. Each wrinkle he laid as mortar on a wall. More bricks, more weight. I’d watch...

      wild cows Those full udders will slowly burst spitting milk onto the grass strands. Will roll down to feed the roots below. Then the weeds will follow. Weeds will grow next spring. Weeds will unfold as bulbous udders without holes – un-milked –...

      Killing Time at the cider farm, eight minutes before handover, we strike on feeding the donkeys – and sprint towards the orchard, only realising in the 5:23 dusk that this is winter, the boughs fruitless, donkeys stabled – that beside ourselves...

      Thorny (One Sided Conversations No4) after seeing Akram Khan’s Giselle 18 Jan 2026 to embrace you is like clasping a fist full of briars if your mouth was an envelope I’d lick it shut you can push all you like against the wall between the living...

      Hummingbird Hawk Moth What were these fairies called before we knew of hummingbirds? Bumblebee moth because of the size? Reed-nose moth because of the proboscis? I fancy Garden-sprite, Hoverling, tiny Vanguard from the Realm of Humm, Flit-wing,...

      On Diamond Hill I didn’t think of you once as I climbed past stunted willows straggles of gorse there was no burning bush but when light poured through each stone step glittered and I heard crystals of song spilling from pipits’ throats it wasn’t...

      Lavoisier’s Law For Mark Matter cannot be created and it cannot be destroyed. I think of this as I pour the almost white ash from the green plastic container that came in the post into the vibrant red metal urn I have ready. I place it on your...