Poems
Losing a Crown in the National Portrait Gallery
The cafe was full of connoisseurs of the scones. As he bit into his flapjack a sinister uncoupling took place…
Unreliable Narrator
If a clock can be a household’s totem then we remain hopeful ours will show us an accurate blue moon…
Easy Street
Roller skating down the main road in the cycle lane, her easy, smooth and flowing scissor stride on booted castors,…
Location
Old friends, we scarcely speak of death or dying. As ever, the displacements continue, just as when we used to…
Sharing the Dog
The Dog share didn’t work out well in the end. For a start, Dog — no mean manipulator — cadged…
Siftings
And we awake like children to tiny snow sprinkled on shed and car roofs, thinking, Will it last, will it…
A Day Off
Well, I’ll go window-shopping in Laroussefor seeds of words. Strangely, they’re not for sale — you help yourself to what…
Act of Faith
This winter morning between seven and eight, half a white moon still present, a ghost not shining on plentiful frost…
The Lost Word
I know it cold, the scene in the woods, the grey-toned sky, and snow— the sudden clearing in the underbrush…
Misprint
Stealth is its policy. It lies in wait. It is no respecter of age. It turns up late Or far…
All Change
Based on a handwritten notebook of recipes from Dorothy Eliza Barnes, my grandmother, a shepherd’s wife, who had worked as…
December
The ferns around the badgers’ sett are dying down, and fine webs fret the brambles. By late afternoon the moon…
Bequest
Knowing he was ill he offered a free choice of the books on his shelves, but for every one wanted…
Heron
Walking to the bus stop after a hospital visit, in an unfamiliar, dusty suburb, I pass a small park on…
Treasure
Walking down the sands to investigate what they might find, shells or stones, flotsam pieces abandoned by tides, two figures…
Bravery
I am not ready for the temple but neither am I ready for the market. Leave me, I pray, a…
Porridge Season
Tuesday morning. The Chopin of golden syrup is going to perform his Breakfast Fantaisie for teaspoon and dessertspoon. Such a…
The Wolves of Memory
Loping through thick snow, fur matted with ice, they have lost the trace that led them long ago from a…
In Other Eyes
Someone to trust with parcels, because he’s ‘always in’; the character who locks the gate at night and lingers to…
Alongside Beans
weeding alongside beans in the same rush as them 6 a.m. scrabbling at the earth beans synchronised in rows soft…
Friday
I have people to see is what I said. I did not say they are all in my head. I…
Hoof-trimming
The below is an unpublished poem, written for Moortown, the verse-diary of Ted Hughes’s experiences of farming in Devon in…
On the way to Plumpton
We pull up at Wivelsfield, under a blue sky, and glance out at the one figure on the platform: a…
Review
(reading Daphne Rooke) Thank you for the book. It reminded me in the way she writes, dry as the Karoo,…
A goddess, a city and a tree
Known for her strength, Athena can throw a spear like a dart, and on the day of the contest for…
