Sunday 26 January 2014

winter 1978


the mill by andrew wyeth 1964

the waggons broken
we hefted the hay on our backs
out to the fields
finding the missing ones
buried in the white out
just a small air hole
letting us know their place
freed they skitter to the flock
then find food and comfort
i stretch my back
my breath steams with the exertion
the fluttering comes again
close pulled coat protects
i hope the next night is easier
for us all.


in another life.....on a hill farm.....harsh winters......we are all mothers....
the mag is here for the other poets work

Monday 13 January 2014

White Horses




we ride the swell
your hooves submerged
in a sea green foam
flanks dripping salt water
but we go on
dappled sunlight on dappled grey
hands wound round
coarse white mane
as i grip to stay with you
wind whipping
slaps laughter back at me
as you rear and buck
with the joy
of galloping with the white horses.

My interpretation of this amazing picture of la Jument of the coast of Brittany by Jean Guichard, to see the others go to The Mag.

Sunday 5 January 2014



rain splashed cobbles
reflects light
in your eyes
flecked gray

shadows lengthen
the  lifetime of cracks
and crevasses
which we tip-toe carefully over

in places a tiny shoot of green
battles against the odds
of crushing disappointment.


Its been a while......the madness of work saps all originality....see the others here.