Friday, 26 October 2012

Uncle Ronnie























Uncle Ronnie cut the last stones.
Alone on the rock, the last mason,
He put a year under his chisel
Until the work was done.

Wednesday, 17 October 2012

Word Formation
















Wind under sky
With no shape
Blows in tomorrow's dust
An advance of rain.

Words cannot frame
The scant origin of cloud.
Nor moisture turn sense
Into utterance.

Thursday, 4 October 2012

Earthbound
















What I write
In the pages of this place
As if on the walls of a prison
Is simply a poem
Or an epitaph.