Sparrows ride the garlic stalks like seesaws
Up and down and bouncing in the wind
One pecks pointedly at tidy flowers
Purple posies offering sweet seed

Some days I feel tough and like a stalk
Strong enough to carry you a while
Flex and bounce and bolster all your weight
While other days I feel so infantile

On rarer days I bloom and multiply
Those are days you ought to feed on me
Spread my seed with love into the wind
My purple posies offer sweet bounty

Spring into life

Illustration by Melita White

Tsunamis of sunshine
Wash over me
Whispers of windcurrents
Wander my way
A tapdance of thunderclouds
Brings me the rain
In blankets of blades
Bright green I lay
Forests of flowers
Meet open eyes
A begging of buds
Tight tease and release
Sweepings of swallows
Whirl round my skull
A kinfolk of kittens
Softens and hums
Buzzings of blossoms
Feed and delight
Tickles of temporary
Spring into life


in the grass
lies skull of fox
and one of sheep
both climbed high
upon the hill
yet one climbed steep
and each decided
where to stop
and where to lie
upon the grass
and where they chose
they lay to die

it’s good to know
the shape and form
of one’s own skull
where side plates join
the ridge and crop
and where the rocks
stud growing grass
to know its hull
and sense its husk
its blackest holes
and highest peaks
from which to view
the fields below
where river runs
a squiggly line
that splits square fields
inscribes bleached hulls
bisects wild skulls