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Tweets
Birds are awake
Birds are awake
Dawn does not break in silence
Early morning flight
I fall asleep, head in hand, elbow perched on armrest
then bounce awake
my cheek buffeted by the cheek of a passing steward
pulling behind him a hot and cold beverage trolley
silence then crickets
silence then crickets
wild fennel heads stripped from stalks
sunfall; empty thoughts
Arthur’s Seat, June evening
Above the hilltop calling gulls bank on wingtip, harried by rooks patrolling in threes. A long-shadowed hare tears through heather and dives into gorse. In the distance, beyond the new town, three bridges.
On Father’s Day
On Father’s Day he used to pretend he wasn’t bothered but mum told us he used to smile to himself and tell her he loved us. Later we found every card we ever sent him in a plastic bag inside a box inside another plastic bag. We think they were in year order.
Musée Matisse
south sunshine starred night
pure colour pure light
From shadow
from
shadow
spring sunshine
brings clarity
colour dreams
slanted
light
The snow hushes
The snow hushes my complaints as it slushes off my umbrella. “We’re sorry”, it says, “we’re April snow but we didn’t know”. It lies at my feet, is translucent and melts. Over the wall the river is rising, brown foaming.
Jetstreamed clouds above
jetstreamed clouds above
brick by heavy brick we build
red bridges of love
