I met my grandfather again last night –
strange, as he died in 1998.
World Cup Year.
I spent some time filling him in on what had gone on since.... more »
for Jack Kerouac (1922-69)
Jack the America of your dreams is gone
Gone the brownstone tenements of the night... more »
I walk every day under your heavy skies
the grey lid that covers your people.
I walk your filthy streets and step past... more »
Spent an hour in the morning moving a wood-pile
from near the house where they need to lay pipes
to a copse I cleared two years ago
of a mountain of twenty year hawthorn and briar.... more »
The path of your seasons is heavy on my heart
Wild winter gales
The early breath of spring-time air... more »
November, Early Morning
open sky washed clean by a night of rain
sharp breath of autumn covering everything
London almost pleasant in the 6 a.m. dawn light... more »
Other Ways I Can Love You
I meant to say how fantastic you looked when you came downstairs this evening.
I meant to say how much I love your knowledge of lower league football.
I meant to say how much I love our evenings of quiet computers & documentaries.
I meant to say how much I cherish the five minutes before the alarm clock rings at 6a.m.... more »
On a crisp Kent Autumn morning
My father throwing sticks, tennis balls, even his car keys
into a brown horsechestnut tree.
Down came showers of leaves and conkers.... more »
On a warm May morning I am invigilating a pointless Government exam
when a child asks eagerly,
“How much time left...? ”
A question better than any on his exam paper.... more »
Tuesday Morning Haiku
Tuesday after Bank Holiday
Commuters stepping around
the stain from a dropped
ice... more »
Gardening yesterday I lifted a large log
and uncovered a teeming party of life.
Woodlice scuttled away
An earwig made its hurried passage to safety.... more »
At first the patter of a couple of raindrops
Increasing in frequency
Tacklings and cracklings
onto the glass roof above... more »