Peter Scupham

Goodman’s Garden

issue 15 November 2014

Where did they all go? Thickets of love and pain rustle in a dry light and skeins of corvidae traipse to a dusk roost.

Time is a flip book. Lift your dear hand and feel the pages purr as years fan by in their lost variegations

of green, gold, brown, and an old cat, white as a child’s Christmas, trots a careful way through his once kingdom.

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