and Campanula Books
Mica – a glittering fireproof mineral, hand-picked crumbs of poetic matter.
A stanza from THE NET SHED
One whiff of the engine grease
fishermen spread, like lemon curd on toast,
I am a child in that refuge,
pebble-perched above a slope
spanned by groyne fingers.
I am peering seawards through
the net-shed window, crazed by cobwebs,
green waterproof ghosts overhead.
Books launch and reading held at The Poetry Society's Poetry Café 16 October 2017