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Author Archives: memoirsofahusk
Strange voices, strange times
I’ve always been shy, happier backstage than performing. But recently I’ve been lured into reading poetry. Invisibly! I recently had a new (short) poem published in the first of a two-volume anthology on the theme of Deep Time from Black … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Alan Garner, Black Bough Poetry, Deep Time, Faith, imagistic poetry, Robert MacFarlane, SoundCloud, The Stone Book, Underland
7 Comments
Reaching for the light
How are you? Contagion is not confined to the physical, is it? I hope you are coping with the anxiety, the frustration, the uncertainty. We are living through difficult times. The way we are used to doing things has been … Continue reading
Red
She’s proud of her delicate feet, her fine ankles and shapely, slender calves, bare below her petticoat. The red shoes are her favourites. She wears them for luck, to charm the eye of – whomever. The journey was … Continue reading
Posted in Thinking, or ranting, or both, Travelling, Uncategorized
Tagged Auschwitz, Birkenau, gas chambers, Jews, Krakow, Mengele, shoes, The Final Solution, World War II
18 Comments
Fancy a ramble?
I know. No more blogging I said. Well, this is the exception that proves the rule. And it’s a long one. So, make a pot of tea or coffee, cut a slice of cake – whatever you fancy – and … Continue reading
Just to let you know…
… that, despite my ‘leaving‘, I do still write and if you are suffering withdrawal symptoms (imagine a wry smile with that), not only is there my other blogging site (something coming there soon) but this has just been published … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
14 Comments
Leaving
There are so many ways of leaving, of ending things, aren’t there? Paul Simon sang of fifty. Which reminds me of ‘Still Crazy After All These Years.’ Which reminds me of a sad end to a strange relationship. But that’s … Continue reading
Madonna of the Penultimate Train
Not the last train, the one before. Packed, but not rowdy. Not teetering, precariously, on the border between alcoholic hilarity and boozed belligerence, like the last train of the night. The seats are arranged in fours. Rows of two-seats-facing-two-seats running … Continue reading
