New apples ...

I put down my heavy glass and climbed the narrow stair -

Last winter's wood smoke scented my clothes -

There was a window seat in my attic room -

Long lived walls kept out the night -

Above me was a mossy roof, then stars -

When I woke, I'd sit in the window seat -

I'd let the sunlight in -

I'd hold the years left me like new apples in my hands -


Thursday 11 July 2019


Hubberholme