Tag Archives: identity

these strange shapes…

Life has taken on strange shapes. The nights are dust heavy, airless and weighted with whispers. I whisper too. Nothing is private. Nothing unseen. Early mornings shave out a space before I become a function.  In these spare moments I … Continue reading

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just me, just this…

These days are crisp to the touch, barely born before they slip into the jealous grasp of the long winter nights. Without work, without many people around, hours should stretch on. But I am finding contentment in little things: puppy-dog … Continue reading

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where the heart is…

Today the temperature plummeted to minus three. The air stung with the frost’s cold kiss, bringing a rising blush of blood to numb cheeks and fingers. The river crossing drifted with ghost mists that loomed dense and then dreamed out … Continue reading

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butterfly dreams…

I wonder whether caterpillars sleep sound on the scent of summer, dreaming of butterfly wings and soaring skies. Do they know where they’re going when their days stiffen and still? Or do they struggle and strain against the momentum of a change unnamed, … Continue reading

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that other undiscovered country…

In the last months it has been easy to see grief as the wellspring of every new thought and feeling. I have thought of it as a temporary madness, something to endure. The inevitable slip-slide of ups and downs has … Continue reading

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