We’ve got snow, it’s so exciting. We’ve got snow and it looks inviting. Pull on your socks, and pull on your wellies; we’re going outside to slide on our bellies!
I’ve been going through some poems, tidying parts up, preparing them for the ritual of submission. It occurs to me that a lot of them are about death. That’s not because I’m overly worried about it; on the contrary, death seems to me the catalyst for...
