Tree Mother   A prickly platinum river  cracks the bruised sky in  two. A tree mother dressed in bridal finery, arms laden with moon flowers,...

Dawn  The moon has retracted its roots while the sky glows like a toaster filament. The houses below sleep. Few wake so early to the regimented...

Recovering the memory of water   You can see Africa from the high Alpujarra they sayfrom a bus window. So, I have packed cucumbers,sheep’s milk...

Seductive seal skin is my coat – zippered for ease of removal; I slip in and out of worlds both human and mystical praying that one day my skin knots to backbone, binds as spines to published pages completing the bleary badge of a true, life-worn selkie: for I am no myth, nor fairytale fancy.

A pebble dropped will displace its own volume of water. Observers, concerned only with measuring volume, don’t care about the separated water or the guilt of the pebble.