Beauty drew the archer’s eye; absolutely true. “To this woman,” bade the bowman. How the arrow flew! As a vesper, as a whisper; diaphanous, and blue as Venus rising in the window; under waxing moon. [diaphanous & blue: acrylic, detail. 2022]
July 4 2003 Carshalton. Green puddles of hard plastic are welded to the pavement. A number of wheelie bins have been torched outside the flats. One of them appears to have melted completely. A toxic stench permeates the scruffy forecourt, but the birds still sing and a crow hops up and down among scraps of … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island…27
Unopened, dun letters envelop the floor. Sheaf leaflets, none read; too many to mention... But her hand, delivered today to my door - penned, posted, scented - receives full attention. Her lines bring pleasure to me, and I glean nuance from her Wish You Were Here missives. News from her mill and river, hills of … Continue reading This Song of Sparrows.
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