They had slept through storms before

January brought with it a blizzard. Icy darts aimed for our knees and the testing froze our sense of belonging to that land. The old bears sunk deeper in their caves, groaned and turned their backs on winter’s sluice trusting that in time from it would flow all the blooms of spring. 31/12/14 — I

Do engineers dream?

Do engineers dream of eiderdown chairs and perhaps a world without gravity? Do they poke with soft pencils at yesterday’s dreams and the monstrous dark in the bedsit? Do they skilfully rush to the day’s blasting rays at the stretch of a morning which never delays? — I know a few engineers and they are

An address from a lectern

Here ‘fore me, plinth of polish For the tree to rest on wood In flat sheets with fastened thoughts Set forth as marching words.   Heralded tonight and often They are by crest announced. We cluster! And applaud. It is a shared experience.   Now, to – I must address:   From nothing written from