Grief wears such warm clothes. The warmth of love remembered. The warmth of memories. It’s just, it’s cold where the clothes let in the wind. Under the cuffs. Inside the collar. Beneath the shirt hem. It’s like the grave freshly covered, the blossom on the overhanging shrub. Everything’s so beautiful under the sky blue, the … More A Poem: Clothed

Someone asks me to dance,he turns the tables out of court,makes a space,enfolds me in. Someone is always asking.Twirling, twirling,I can get drunk on love,on this endless comfort. Someone is always askingfor my hand,but I notice that in motionthere’s nothing I’m not surrendering. Everything has been swept nowas flotsam from the room,the mirrors showing mespinning, … More A Poem: Dancing

I am cracking openso I can be sea glass,gathered,turned into mosaics. I am being cut,laid out to dry as petals,colours retrievedbefore they’re spent. I am being run downas mown grass,to become a stretch of emerald greenwhere birds arrive for worms. I am a vase on a window-sill,its beauty in the way it capturesthe light of … More A Poem: Cracking

My story is woven in your story.Because our paths crossed,connected, carried on in step,diverged, I have become a bigger story. If we are each of us streams,then the place we flow into each otheris our rushing river, our brimming over,our rich heritage. We have become a grateful history. And the place we flow out of … More A Poem: Stories

When I am homein a quiet capsule I can feel isolated,quarantined. Though I might have a door, a street,a means of travel, I can still feel small,unseen, unknown. How to knowthat sitting can make a difference with silence echoing,a child’s laughter distant intercepted bya cold spring wind. Yes, when I am home ina quiet capsule … More A Poem: At Home

Can we circle in? When we are spiralling outso much so that we lose our balance, how do we draw in againto the still firm central place? Sometimes there are questions yetfor which we think the answer’s found circling out in the vastness of space,a wide blue canvas. While each star shining looksalike to another, … More A Poem: Circling

Can you hear the symphony? The sun has rounded the earth,turned her warm breath,chased away the dark. Spread her handsand lit each dew soaked length of grass,each leaf,each flower opening to her face. And the cacophonyto welcome her,it’s as though the world has just tuned in. Each bird’s song signalling its existence,its dependence on a … More A Poem: Symphony

I am grateful. Does grateful speak of longingand reminisces. Somehow it sounds to melike the wind in the pines, a soft, constant breathin the memory. I am grateful. ‘So’ is a small word preceding,signalling degrees, but there is no measure for gratitude,nor for the breeze running her soft fingersthrough the pine needles. And there is … More A Poem: Grateful