Monday, 8 September 2014

Low tricks by the sun

Long slender legs extend my arrival in a kitchen where
crumbs are boulders, windows blind with grime
and I wish, not that I was less a slut at housework
but had been more so, while my legs were still that long.

Friday, 5 September 2014

On my way to buy a morning paper #50

Close to the ground:
not an exotic creamy toffee crunch dessert
but once-white, now-dead hydrangeas.

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

Hamnavoe in Hamnavoe

The rising sun, at half past six
still low enough
to be blotted out
by the ferry passing my pier

Saturday, 23 August 2014

From behind closed curtains in Inverness

Seagull's single bark of surprise
followed by cruel laughter
like he'd discovered his best mate
shagging the barmaid.
The one they'd both agreed last night
was minging.

Tuesday, 19 August 2014

From my office window

Several dozen starlings suddenly alight
for a frenzied twenty seconds' gorge
on scarlet rowan berries.

Monday, 18 August 2014


Turning the tumble of too-fleeting words in my head
to eight hundred words on the screen -
and all before breakfast -
means the rest of the day should be good.

Friday, 15 August 2014

stepped out

Filigree satellites
planted overnight
on our front lawn.
Listening to our every conversation?

Thursday, 14 August 2014


Not a trundling of dozens of wheelie-bins, on cobbles
but thunder from a pale grey sky.

Thursday, 31 July 2014

Lesson temporarily re-learned

An optimist with a short-term memory
is doomed to disappointment on repeat
disappointment on repeat

Wednesday, 30 July 2014