Poems
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1 No prophets, 15 April
No thought of the day ahead, or the day that was before this day
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Inishmore, sweet music, 10 April
All these years unravelling the particulars of a life with tongue-tied ghosts
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I loved you father, 8 April
I went back through the low maze and found him standing, lost.
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The whipper-snipper, 5 April
the first time this garden has ever been subject to such violence
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Surprised, Monday morning, 4 April
I feel the feathers tickle my scalp, she lands inches away . . .
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Weeding, 17 March
Sometimes you want simple choices like what to kill - and my address to Council on saving a wildlife corridor
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Haibun, 9 Feb
A man flies around cosmic Nuungu Mirral using a sail, far-fetched holder of air.
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