I have lost my bearings - by
It is time to go north. I want / to listen to silence and unpick its voices: / the wind…
nature
The Spell of the Yukon - by
I wanted the gold, and I sought it,
/ I scrabbled and mucked like a slave.
/ Was it famine…
Dividing Line - by
The blood / of the fish / becoming / the blood / of the bear.
‘Summer’ - by
Come we to the summer, to the summer we will come,
For the woods are full of bluebells and the hedges full of bloom,
And the crow is on the oak a-building of her nest,
And love is burning diamonds in my true lover’s breast.
Travelling South, Scotland, August 2012 - by
‘Necessity is not the mother of invention; play is.’
/ Ian D. Suttie
/
/ It gets late early out here
/ in the lacklustre places,
/ wind in…
‘Scotland small?’ - by
Scotland small? Our multiform, our infinite Scotland small?
/ Only as a patch of hillside may be a cliché corner
/ To a fool…
The Moult - by
Shelter in the hoodoos and pluck / your fur – fine smell caught on the heather / and shining reeds…
when the light shifts - by
when a breeze blows / through grasses or branches / light touches the harp…
The Victoria Falls - by
So hushed, so hot, the broad Zambesi lies
/ Above the Falls, and on her weedy isles
/ Swing antic monkeys swarm malignant…
I, Lizard, performance artist - by
My art is my performance. / My performance is endurance.
Like trains of cars on tracks of plush - by
Like trains of cars on tracks of plush / I hear the level bee…
The Bee - by
Like trains of cars on tracks of plush / I hear the level bee…