A hole looks into a hollow
A collection of poems that I wrote for North Light Arts about a forest called Woodhall Dean Swallowed by a ship The bough, borne in a cup, once in touch with the sky. One trunk, two arms, ten fingers gone. The congregation The bark on the trunk is grey in colour, thick and rough. Beneath there lies a seventy four gun ship, a door, a shrine and a round table. Natural, polished, stained or fumed, to fight, to walk, to die and talk. Sleeves An oak in Woodhall Dean leans back. It
The mountain above the wood
It is winter and I put my walking boots on before setting out. It is early and just me and Matt. 'Have you got the compass and the map,' I ask, and he squints and nods. He is checking off his list in his head. Matt is so much better at climbing mountains than I am; he is a planner, a list maker and he has his eyes open. I on the other hand get lost, I don't remember where I have just been and I can't see a path for looking. A dark cluster of hills, with white sheets draped ov
The lady at the well
The lady at the well has carried this water for decades. She lives north and the fields and hills roll on to meet the sky. Her land is divided by dry stain; it is where she belongs. 'I was born here and I shall die here. The scarf I wear is my mothers and the water I drink from the well is my life. I know who I am, and this is my home'. Beyond the wall to the west there lies a forest called Woodhall Dean, the land is covered with Oak and Hawthorn. Trunks with rich sleeves of
The figure head
The figure head Held up by ribs, fixed to bow. She looks up, looks out and dips down. Her wooden pins hold, the hollow oak, the wave and the foam.
Heart and Hand
A new poem written in response to a conversation about autonomy at the end of life with Dr Ben Colburn, and a reflection on a potter. You create a real and whole object from your hand In total it stands made by you Autonomous and true and near to me His heart is the place earthed Touching a cold surface he shapes it round in his hand turn Now ash now down now down and under His objects stay and his light remains Never ash never down and under