ages have past
in time, place, creations
leaving here two weeks ago in tune with the dancers in sunrise
to the tune of Saul and Handel in Buxton
a day with Judith here with thorns, string, drawing
Candle only three weeks ago
Argentina, Pelleas and Melisande, 8 dancers
party birthday
a quiet solemn day Joanna has left after 5 weeks
walking in a trance to the barn
wildflowers into their seedings
deep colours aching purple, intense yellow
purity white of bindweed
cross the makeshift bridge glance down at a flash of red
a candle, used, startling it must be mine?
dragged from the cells of death in the bunker somehow lost here among the grass
trickster of many stories
memories continually being made
a shock
like finding part of me in an unexpected place
7 magpies over the thatch
so secrets
who knows
