So now: as we wait in rapt expectancy, will we unwrap our dreams? Our loves? Or unravel with the pressure, the hallowed table proving to be full of holes. When the day and its gestures disappoint, what will tell us, You matter? Frantic to complete the list, we quickly pass the simple scene: a teenageContinue reading “Advent 4: Correction”
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Poetry for new dads
Grand plans will have to wait. Time works differently here: sometimes it hums, sometimes skips, sometimes vanishes. You will think, “There’s a thought; I’ll write about that-” Only – catch the thought, before nappies and necessity make it dissipate in baths at 8 and all that joy – the total joy that nonetheless necessitates thatContinue reading “Poetry for new dads”
Spring Cleaning (II)
I go to prepare a place for you. We do too; with unsure anticipation, we make a space atop the stairs, with bunting and books and animals on the walls, a cot, tiny clothes, a place for your toys. We also prepare our days, our thoughts. They too make space for the big rearrange, thisContinue reading “Spring Cleaning (II)”
Winter Song
Write me a poem like the early spring, pluck me a chord like a green flower-stem. Open the dance where we know all the steps to these known tunes that never will end. Weave me a curtain to let in the light. Cast me a rainbow without any dye. Spin me a question without anContinue reading “Winter Song”
“The thick darkness where God was”
This is what must first be given to the painting, a harmonious warmth, an abyss into which the eye sinks, a voiceless germination… (Paul Cézanne) How often is he shown with those horns of light, as though his head were itself full of the brightest luminescence and two cracks, two holes had formed inside his skullContinue reading ““The thick darkness where God was””
No Ghosts This Year #8
That lunchtime, before Drama class, Philip had nearly lost a prop that he’d brought from home for the performance they were doing, and had spent so much time running around looking for it – opening up and emptying the contents of his bag and locker, checking his home room, everywhere he could think of –Continue reading “No Ghosts This Year #8”
No Ghosts This Year #7
“Hey,” called a voice from the other side of the road. Reluctantly he looked over. It was Laura. She was crossing to meet him. But what was she doing here? She didn’t normally walk this way to school. “I slept over at Stacy’s,” she said, as if she knew that an explanation was needed. “AreContinue reading “No Ghosts This Year #7”
No Ghosts This Year #6
The day after, he always felt like a wounded soldier. And, while there was a certain manly glory in the feeling, it was hard for others to see or understand it; and what good, really, was there in having survived a battle that no-one else knew you had fought? As a younger child, he hadContinue reading “No Ghosts This Year #6”
No Ghosts This Year #5
A knock on the door. The door began to open. He hurriedly poked his head out from under the covers. It was Sarah. “What are you doing?” she asked, looking a little oddly at him. “Nothing,” he mumbled. “Just reading.” “Under the covers?” “Yeah, why not?” “No reason.” A pause. He slipped the book underContinue reading “No Ghosts This Year #5”
No Ghosts This Year #4
Dinner had passed with congratulations all round for his sister’s success at her license test and corrections from his grandfather over his reports of the ridiculous song that had been inflicted on Philip in music class that afternoon. “That was ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’!” Pa had said. “Christina Rossetti and Gustav Holst. The greatest EnglishContinue reading “No Ghosts This Year #4”
The Consolations of Writing 