The first of a series of ‘postcards’ – tiny, unconnected stories. The edge of the table cloth moves under the breeze. Worn, white jacquard, soft on my hands, creases easily as my fingers undo its neatness. Folds meet pattern; describing possibility. Dressing a table pleases me; a naked table’s as sad as a bare mattress.  […]


a poem from my walking … Dandelion Our moon fell hard to earth, soaked through night to soil. The shivering ground waited; swallowed silver gilded dust. For winter a formless heart; ice and rain raise no pity. The world holds on … for something better. An imperfect star orbits; reluctant saviour, pulling close. Warmth and […]