Because this is what we had left When the fields were gone. Because our feet had become scorched On cracked tarmac. Because the unthinkable Had become the inevitable. Because … Continue reading A Poem for the End of the World

The field is longer than you expect it to be. The dog can be free there, remembering A time before leashes. A place to stretch yourself and shout And be … Continue reading Meadow Walk

I think it’s Christmas Day. It looks like Christmas Day.  Or like my idea of what Christmas Day ought to look like, based on years of working in TV advertising … Continue reading Christmas Day

This poem is about Sadako, the antagonist from The Ring. It was something about the eyes, he said. She’s not right. He wasn’t wrong. I would sit there and watch … Continue reading Gift

I wrote this after noticing a blue plaque above a doorway in Manchester, announcing Thomas De Quincey’s birthplace.  A man was sleeping rough in the doorway.  I wondered what De … Continue reading De Quincey’s Ghost

(Based on Automat by Edward Hopper)   She only comes here at night When the hours stare her full in the face And ask too many questions – And the … Continue reading Empty

I married him when he was still a man Before he became a metaphor for himself, A person concealed within an idea. And they say I’m the crazy one. They … Continue reading The Spy’s Wife

I awoke when the pencil lines met around the contours of my face. At first everything was blurry and a bit strange; until he came into focus. He shaded my … Continue reading Artistic Process

‘Why have you brought me here?  Who are all of these people?’ She looks as though she is starting to panic. ‘It’s fine, Mum.  I’ve brought you here so that … Continue reading The Apple Tree

The last few notes hung in the air like insects; then they fluttered away and she came back to herself.  She realised she had been staring at the ornate ceiling … Continue reading Fledgling