too late to hill up asparagus to blanch it, to drink tea in a Russian port in winter, torpedo the Atlantic. Reflux stains the map with the telling of your …
stone beach on kos (Linda Godfrey)
echoes smack on a photograph/ show about twelve/ all standing round in their morning/ like our thoughts/ all children have to leave somewhere/ and yet fishponds reflect/ if not actual …
Sanctuary (Linda Godfrey)
Sticking out of the grey and white choppy water are four grey and white shapes. Not waves; they don’t break and roll to the shore. It has to be more …