The Arms of the World

Saturday, 4 Jun 2022

There is a place I go
High on a cliff
Fringed by wind-buffeted shrubs
Stalwart and stunted

They mask the view
Until passing, panting
through them
I find myself
on the very edge of the void

Where I cry out

Because the blue, the blue

The Blue

reaches all at once
around me and above me
In an endless curve

And I am not crushed by the indifference of the waves beneath me
moving in and out
as they have done
for year
upon year
upon year

I am safe in the circle of the sky
Enfolded to the earth

Borne up by the arms of the world


Kintsugi: Golden Joinery

A blind man’s fingers
Would trace a path
Across the knotted folds
Of knobbled flesh;

Linger over loss lines

Feel the weeping writ there

Punctuation Poems

O! Most Excellent Exclamation!
My Sweet Semi-colon

This Particular Day

The yellow-fingered dawn
takes me hand
as if to say


What a word
‘wistful’ is –

Definitely not getting up to run at dawn

I lie in bed,
reach for the screen

It was a misty, moisty morning

It was a misty, moisty morning

When all the world was new