We don’t grow up. We thicken. Years surround us like the rings of trees to sing the stories of our youth composed of times both rough and smooth but either way, a sturdy shield of streetwise tricks and skills to wield against the many threats that loom outwith the safety of the womb. The […]Read Post ›
Oozing through the kitchen’s veins. Salty, sweet. In shoogled glass or skooshy plastic. Centrepiece of every table. Meals rotate like planets round your chemically stable essence. Vying for the nightly chance to bask amidst your smothered kiss. From bolognaise to fish and chips. Your touch unlocks their finer tastes and grants all entry to my […]Read Post ›
What if what we thought we knew as obvi- ously true was false and clocks were not set forth by time but time passed pushed by throngs of ticks and tocks and days were not dic- tated by the speed of spinning rocks for spinning rocks were dancing to what ever length of day we […]Read Post ›
to count on my hands the times I fall into these linguistic traps that I dig to properly hinder my scramble for land I’d need more fingers I’d need more fingers infinitely.
Beneath a strip of sky so pure your faithful eye can glean what lies beyond your world, and in the few unfurling, drifting swirls of white decipher secrets hidden there – you hide amidst the swaying reeds and watch it closely. Cloaked in grey it stands so still and long on legs so thin a […]Read Post ›
When the sun, like a stone, skims the horizon and colours drain through shades; deciduous moths are sown shut. When H20s too hard to drink and the stars suck the heat from our bones; the flighty shirk their nests. When life itself one last mass extinction and the ground itself is buried; we cherish […]Read Post ›
The sands of sleep are not found on some beach But an infinite, timeless desert The depths of which we cannot reach In forms equipped to remember And there where we can shed no light Upon that heavenly mirror We gaze into its blazing might And fleetingly meet our maker
Don Redwood 