Rain like a bastard. Always big weather round here, more than our share. Don’t need radar animations or a weather app: just stick your head out the window, clouds all day escarpment gone and here in this last sunshine all it takes is… Continue reading
a bird exists inside this five-foot box
made for beak and wing, Continue reading
(a reply to William Carlos Williams’ This is just to say)
got your note
(juice-stained). Continue reading
The land is a book waiting to be read
but if it’s not read is it still a book, Continue reading
I don’t know if they are artists’ pallets,
or horses’ hooves
it used to matter, but it doesn’t now.
They grew slowly, in dark arcs
and could support a book.
Their lips are white and moist
But speak another language. Continue reading
(trying to explain Maurice Blanchot to myself, twice!)
In the everyday use of poetry, words carry ideas.
Continue reading
Free (yes, really) Continue reading
This looks so much better on my site – come visit
or view the PDF here…
it should be about something.
like love Continue reading
the wind moans in the cote
as it tunes canto (odd muso)
on manse doors and eaves.
Continue reading
the grass has gone blonde (and died), the trees are hanging down and the black earth is cracking open. Continue reading
Peter Frankis writes 