The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
What makes us suppose that only the living grieve? Now all but lost in this new and familiar world of tall, leaning-together buildings...
Tuesday, 16 April 2013
The Night Security Patrol
The night security patrol -
that's Grant and Mischief II.
A university. Extensive grounds,
a six mile beat to be completed
twice or thrice a night.
The half-way point: a statue
of the venerable founder. Ghost-
like and silvery in pools of light
that move with clouds and trail
deep shadows in their wake.
Grant becomes aware
that Mischief's nose or ears
are on to something he has missed.
Grant lets him run on the long lead.
Mischief growls. Attacks the noble
founder. Will not let go his legs.