Painting (Remove filter)
Rooftops (for Bruno Cordati)
The worst of the front was that trickle of rain
down the neck. Wet through, it felt like liberation.
And lice. Home on leave, people shunned him in trains.
Walled, hilltop village of his childhood:
as another war came, he returned to Barga.
Saw himself as immobile, a tree spreading roots.
When the Germans briefly retook his village
one self-portrait was damaged. The ...
Saturday 21st January 2012 5:51 pm
Recent Comments
David R Mellor on There There,
2 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Israel - Shame On You
5 hours ago
Hélène on Daughter
5 hours ago
Hélène on Forsyth Park
5 hours ago
Hélène on Not-Girl Guides
5 hours ago
Hélène on Smile Like The Sun
5 hours ago
Hélène on The Rain
5 hours ago
Hélène on Israel - Shame On You
6 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Israel - Shame On You
7 hours ago
J R Harris on Good to be back!
7 hours ago