1. I will remember. A rhyme yet to come. All is rhythm. Horn and drum. It was autumn. I will remember. 2. A rhyme yet to come. Glance her mirror. All is beauty. Glimpse and glimmer. It was November. A rhyme yet to come. 3. All is rhythm. Six bells chime. All is hum. Her … Continue reading Hymn In Waltz Time.
27/10/22 Somewhere south of London in a sort of 1980s that never happened, I am sitting on the top deck of the 466 bus with mum. The rest of the bus is empty. We gaze out of the bus window, through the tree tops and into the first floor windows of the semi-detached: orange leaves … Continue reading dream diaries…114
Yesterday, a photograph - acorns, on a table, jarred - appeared before me. Curiously, the reverse revealed a label, written; sinistral, spectral; snared within open quote marks, reckoning October, nineteen ninety-five. . Inclining from the past to present, the ink, faded and reminiscent of early morning light as this November beckons, reminding me that memory … Continue reading November Beckons
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