63 years, iron filings
Or, On meeting a man in the pub We stood there together in front of the crowd And promised each other our lives and ourselves Your hand on my back Me holding you tight Not daring to look straight To stare at the light That image is burnt now It’s seared on my soul It’s…
Physics and art: in memorium
The really weird thing is I can never remember The day you left us for good. When mum died the day was stamped in my memory I may as well write it in blood . But you, you with your quietness, you slipping away from your mind Where did you go? Or is the real…
Tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of my Mother’s death from cancer. She was 69. Rather than be sad I wanted to remember some of the things she did – to recapture her spirit iyswim. She wasn’t perfect but it’s the flaws that make a person interesting. She knew all the words to The Mexican Hat…
Messing about on the river
To Salcombe for a night away from the boys and time with the buoys instead. Pootling down the Dart and catching waves out at sea. My first time on Other Half’s new hobby. I forgot my exploded loo, the parkinsons and workload. Marvellous. Look, here’s a taster.