Take the chance
Take hold
Sometimes life
Makes the most
Of the situation.
The Book Day
Three boxes suddenly appeared
on the living room floor
Books cleared from a child’s room
Boxes filled with old friends
Books bought so long ago
So now my writing desk is surrounded
As I renew our acquaintance
Lorca’s Poet in New York.
Cesare Paves’s The Political Prisoner.
Opening the yellow pages
of Among Women Only
I catch the scent of the days
I worked in the steel works
And read it over and over again
on the way home on the train.
Rescuing is a goodness of its own
The dog had woken and was restless
And you said in the dark it’s an owl
Of course the dog knew differently
And persisted licking the fingers
Of my hand to waken me
Out of that place of deep darkness.
I followed her down over the stairs
And saw the cat play with the bird
And then dart away from the fluttering
In the curtain and the distressed sound
Of a small bird alone and confused
I took it in a quick actioned grasp
And felt its heart beating fast
In the darkness I felt its wings
And stretched each leg to ascertain
That none of those small bones
Were bitten through or broken
Then I let it loose and heard it flutter
And it flew away into the darkness.
Rescuing is a goodness of its own.
Adrift — spanishwoods
the cigarette smoke fades softly into the dark and humid night along this ridge in Penn’s woods– making my memories of flat Ohio landscapes and golden rolls of hay disappear, dissolve and drift upon the strong and swift Allegheny
Voices in Time by Pamela Ireland Duffy
For years, we sat in silence tearing out our eyes for fear of darkness, biting off our tongues for fear of lies for years fearful and lost whilst gaolers jangled keys and swaggered and echoe…
Celfypridd 