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As we seek help remember

angels don't always have wings

though they often come on hallowed ground,

and our visions can be theirs


so don't look for wings

instead fly too as magic is woven

to lift you. 

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I knew him through the cracks where music got in

conversations awkward somehow impersonal

but we had seen the light

and the link was as strong a bond

as his role of being my father. 

I could never thank him enough

and that was good enough for him. 

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Goodbye Enid goodbye

Sunny Stories had me gripped

on go to bed now days

learning words

those animal eyes

gazing fondly into the past

fluffy clouds and garden pots

 other infantile harmless plots. 


As my chrysalis parted

other thoughts began to rise

all taken care of by Mum

Reveillie, Titbits,

salty images,

girls folding and bending

with hands behind t...

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Inside the garden pot the ants

had been busy behind plastic

confined in their imprinted circuitry

patterns of labour, tunnels of itch

now suddenly disturbed by my wrenching

of the Christmas tree,


enough years serving its purpose

of annual celebration,

dressed with solar bulbs and red leaves,

lately abandoned

starved of nutrition but stubbornly surviving. 



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