Then It Rains

Then It Rains You ask on my behalf to rise and leave,to dress without the hindranceof bootlace worms returning at our feet. In vain we anticipate permission from spiderswho watch in shadows, spinning websthat constrain all action. Standing, squatting, sitting, we are opposed,resisted. We are tangled marionettes,linked with quantum string, each respondingwith confused counter movement….

Still Life

Still Life Such a sketchy fox;broken lines and poor shading,a child’s painting rushed to paper,barely recognisable in two dimensions. Autumn riot of matted fur on frost,an arrangement set amid a fog of guiltand quickened wisps of midnight breath. Deep colour oozes in slow flowing pigment,warming these shaking hands, melting snowsteaming on the canvas of a…

Sitting in a Semi (after David Bowie)

Sitting In A Semi(after David Bowie) Remote in a Cumbrian village,removed and adrift as instructed,I have become a modern Major Tom,floating with the tins and toilet rolls,bouncing off the ceiling, walls and floor. Behind glass, I message Planet Earth,well placed for views in virtual space,sitting in a semi, playing spot the Herdwick,clapping frontline health service…

Schrödinger’s Mouse

Schrödinger’s Mouse Your love of my raspberries has resultedin this late evening walk in headtorch, to hedges of hazel and blackthorn,far enough from home to foil ideas of return. Aware of owls ripping through moonlight,I kneel in damp fescue and sedge, clutching this tilt trap of quantum uncertainty;mouse or no mouse? that is the question….

Elegy For A Peevish Bee

Elegy For A Peevish Bee Temper rising, she becomes a blur of business,works at glass and frame, vents a blast of angry wingsin search of phantom gaps or phased matter. Close outside, snapdragons sway encouragingly,zinnias gesture from plastic boxes beyond the window,rays of light refract, reflect and raise the stakes. Frustration takes her; she begins…

One Called Paul

One Called Paul Five drab juveniles land outside my window;goth eyeliner, raucous and rucking over territory,fouling up my window ledge, five floors high. Under murmured shadows, three leave suddenly,startle the two, who, drawing close, look to each other,before the larger wings it with thousands in late city skies. The smallest catches reflections in the high…

Masterclass

Masterclass The shed was an apex all-woodhome-built construction,erected that furnace of a summerwhen we burnt in the shadeand our feet turned to leather,a backdrop of screaming swiftsswooping like mad dot bansheesin the forget me not blue. We stood back and admiredthe woody quality of its sturdiness,overlooked the imperfections;worth the blisters and swearing,the seed drawers labelled,garden…

Yew

Yew In search of yew in Borrowdalethat shared the sun with Judas,I walk a rutted path,aware of twinges, snares, rocks,carrying your paints and easelalong with this bowl of words,no longer fit for consumption,mould festering in knotsfrom sour touching fruit within.And if these words were berries,gardeners would stand disappointedat the canker in the bark below.And if…

The Copenhagen Interpretation of E-mails

The Copenhagen Interpretation of E-mails(after Niels Bohr and Werner Heisenberg) I read somewhere, at sometime,that everything and nothing existsoutside the space you’re placed. Closed doors are quantum barriersseparating the countless possibilitiesof constantly branching parallel universes. Facts on the outsides of roomsare blurred, until they are moved intoand created through observation. So, ignoring Newtonian classical notions,where…

Skin

Skin I think this skin is tired:days in tens of thousandsstretched and stressed,wearing the hours in shapesmirror checked for suitability. Broken on a daily basis:elementally punctured,eroded, baked and beaten,a well-worn whipping boyexperienced in such matters. Exposed to judgement:harshly compared with benchmarks,body targets shifting over timeall template aspirations witheredor hopelessly out of reach. Disinfected and scrubbed:exfoliated…

Dandelion Sun

Dandelion Sun A child’s sun finds a dream in young eyes.In blinks of dandelion eclipses,refracted light reflects on retinasholding warmth in ragged leavesbelow a flower standing up and out. Ryegrass and foxtail for company,a golden head of petals,swaying and slight,is there and gone and there again. The wings of friends unfold to test the airwith…

Bookend