POETRY

In this last light before the turning of night I think I have found my resolution – it is here in the mud among the roots of a tall beech tree, and it glistens like something newly born when I

The sheep and their lambs look like little broken drops of mercury rolling up the hill between the hedges to be fed. As if someone had broken a ball of silver on the hillside in sunshine and watched the droplets

And the guttering red rock sliced like decks of cards slanted into the sea. And she is there in the mist in the sea breeze she is in the gathering dark she rides the mounting forces which rise beneath the

There are many dainty rules of etiquette intended to avoid the incongruous, designed not to upset, like picking up a bone china tea cup between thumb and forefinger with little finger cocked… or tipping a soup bowl away from you,

How many years ago did I read this Jung: ‘Synchronicity An Acausal Connecting Principle’? I remember we shared that caravan by the stream in the valley beneath Llyn Mawr and a circle of standing stones. How we would listen to

The shadow stretches from behind the eyes the length of the spine, peeling off the back of my head, a long-tailed reptile feeding from the base of my brain. People stare past my eyes they don’t look at me, they

Outside, our breath rises, light’s focused through clear lenses, the magic of thick, polished glass, of mirrors. Tonight I see the moons of Jupiter: four tiny crescents lit by the sun in line, in orbit, the planet like a star.

following the events of this summer …the few words I have to offer… War (7th July 2005) Today suddenly we have a taste of it, are caught by the fear, inflamed with fury at the killing. Real, instantly gathers new meaning. Guns

drove ambulances during the first world war, her story, smudged in newsprint, suspended between the arms of commuters, red poppies. She found men over twice her age crying, shell-shocked, gassed. She gathered whole, dead and dismembered bodies into communal graves,

Cornwall. He collected, categorised, recorded everything offered up by the sea – lobster pots, lobster pot tags, buoys, flotsam and jetsam from across the Atlantic, even seed pods from the Amazon. He said the sea fortold what was to be: