The Worry Bird

Don’t take on so. That bird you’ve made at the end of your bed is the tangled ball of feathers that is reluctance. So don’t take on so. He seems like a lead weight, anchoring the blanket ever faster, ever tighter to you. You might even feel the boulder like mass of him, immovable atContinue reading “The Worry Bird”


The flour scurried like dust from an epicentre.  Exploding, it mushroomed and fell like ash, a bullseye ring clear round the impact.  The slap of the dough as it hit was dull.  Flat.  Lifeless.  Too loud. For a moment, he stood too still.  Betrayed by the loudness.  The loudness that made the silence that followed fierce with the irreverent sounds of living.  TheContinue reading “Bread”

Indignant of Westminster

I went for a walk today, because I wanted the outdoors.  I wanted to walk by water, and to feel the cool of the evening on my face, until it was ever so slightly numb.  I wanted to hear my own footstep, pulsing the earth, the gravel making place for me.  I wanted to be startled by theContinue reading “Indignant of Westminster”


A novitiate, I scaled to reach The lab, a lofty, high building Invaded by light in illuminating shafts Exposing galaxies of scintillating dust Orbiting in gentle ellipses, The constellation of microscope observatories. Pages of pared down Picasso dove Line diagrams; distilled, drawn cells Deciphered, decoded, demystified My textbook recording the divined Cellular art, aligned, orderlyContinue reading “Wounds”

The first night

The evening of the first day Of newness, was it bright? After the stone-heavy coldness of death Had flooded with cavernous light? Were they, who’d slept in the garden, Willing the morning on? Wide-eyed for dawn, recounting the day That the statutes of death had gone. I’ve lost a loved one and slept Fitful, wakingContinue reading “The first night”

The Annunciation

Archangel, how do you move? Star-slinging, epoch gathering, Undreaming, dream-reading. Bearing the Eternal “Will you?” At what time of day, olamic angel Did you visit the One who in her “Yes” Would become Visitor to comfort the comfortless? Are your wings, Archangel As I imagine them, or as Fra Angelico? Heavy, unruly swans, tethered andContinue reading “The Annunciation”

The Maelstrom

The wee boat is painfully simple But sure, it must have made light work  Of the pathways of the sea,  For here it is, blithe boat Afloat but how it’s powered,  Heaven knows.  In dreams I am never party to its passage I spy it after and only then, aft Poor stowaway of my own imagining.Continue reading “The Maelstrom”