Telling Time

When I last wrote, lockdown was beginning to ease and we were cautiously feeling our way towards a slightly more liberated existence. I’d like to say that this was the point at which this series of Reflections came to a clear and natural conclusion. The reality is that other things began to crowd in and the poetry writing was crowded out.  But in a way that’s probably a reflection of how it’s been. There’s been no celebration in the street, and we’re still sliding from one state of uncertainty to another.

I have plans for another set of reflections on a rather different tack in the coming months, but in the meantime I decided to round off this one by collecting all the poems, and some of the accompanying photos, into a little book.

In preparing its pages, I became aware how much of a presence trees had become – in the book as in my life.  So all proceeds will go to the Woodland Trust.