Is there someone you call darling,
Someone you have passed through the barriers
Of your own strangeness to love?
Leaving the platitudes, the template greetings,
As scraps for me to live on.
Now you have burst in on me
Shaking yourself like a cat.
Carrying the storm
It’s no fun being a dyspraxic with a deficit visual memory. Imagine if Sylvia Plath had to do formatting- she’d have topped herself even sooner…. Poetry keeps me sane, the rest drives me nuts and I’ve won no awards. And there’s nothing wrong with Readers Wives, my Mum was one.