XXIV. The Meadows A storm is blowing through. Aidan. Huge gusts shove children in the playpark, they stagger – little sozzled people – then regain their footing, run. Shouts can’t be heard above the blasting storm that rips through trees, strips boughs, steals hats. The pink curly wig on the girl with fishnet stockings is … Continue reading The Meadows, Kitchen Table
It is a letting go time of year. The light and leaves are dropping, the colours are fading, the fruits all gone, the seed pods blown. When I’m out walking or driving east along the coast, I see huge flocks of geese fly in formation, resolute in their destination. They fly so high that the … Continue reading Under the October Twilight
Attached to my fridge is a black and white photograph from Hallowe’en 1978. It’s of me and my two sisters standing in the back garden wearing cobbled together costumes. M. is draped in a white sheet with two holes the size of 50p pieces roughly cut out at eye level; the cloth gathered at her waist … Continue reading Samhain
My Edinburgh Press 