In corners where no willows grow
I rake up willow leaves and know
The winds are set for winter.
Oh, The frenzy of their final blow
Before the stillness of the snow!
18 November 1991
Category Archives: Nature
Lichens of the mind
I come each year to where my father lies
And read again the polished granite stone,
Which tells me that he died on such a date,
At such an age and may he Rest in Peace.
The formula is bare, so much unsaid,
And with each year becomes more indistinct
As images I hold become concealed
Behind eroding lichens of the mind.
August 1985
My square of window
My square of window
weeping stars in the blue night,
You asleep upstairs.
I lie awake alone
Breathing in time with you.
Doors clicking softly
In the midnight breeze.
Dark curtains swishing,
Soon to be filled pink
with soft morning light.
The sky cut neatly
By the window frames
Into tiny portions
Like blackberry pie
waiting to be eaten.
Albertine roses
Under the sill tap
The cool cement wall
In their wire moorings,
Moved by the night wind
And their own silent growth.
La Croute. St. Ouen, Jersey. 1967
I have a homing instinct for the stars 
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