Sunday 31 January 2016

Saturday 30 January 2016

Friday 29 January 2016

Thursday 28 January 2016


premature daffodils
a plastic trike left
out for recycling


Wednesday 27 January 2016

Saturday 23 January 2016

Friday 22 January 2016



staff development
people problems
cover the flip-chart




Thursday 21 January 2016

Wednesday 20 January 2016

Tuesday 19 January 2016



traffic light season
the river passes
a line of commuters


Sunday 17 January 2016

Saturday 16 January 2016

Friday 15 January 2016

Thursday 14 January 2016

Wednesday 13 January 2016

prostate exam
the consultant's finger
touches a nerve


Tuesday 12 January 2016

Monday 11 January 2016

Sunday 10 January 2016

Saturday 9 January 2016

Friday 8 January 2016

Thursday 7 January 2016
























wildflower meadow
the picnic bench
becomes an anvil

Wednesday 6 January 2016

Tuesday 5 January 2016

Monday 4 January 2016

Sunday 3 January 2016

























Ginst Point, New Year


We walk towards an estuary
Where three rivers merge,
And I stumble in the dune slack,
Mud on ripped jeans,
A sign of things to come.


Our movement spooks
A flock of plovers,
The tide drew out to shining sand,
As you ask if animals die of old age,
Only if the predators don't get them first.


In your photographs,
I'm a man time is stalking,
The years creep,
Like a punt gunner,
Carrying the blunderbuss,


That fells a clutch of geese,
Amongst the flotsam,
We collected together,
Someone I trust,
To pick up my broken pieces.

___




Saturday 2 January 2016

the chapel goers
hurried inside
winter rain

#senryu 

Friday 1 January 2016

New Year's Day
piss and rain spill
from a chip tray