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L3 (Day 43): Carrow Hill
Here’s white light, no heat Heaven’s lights will shine bright tonight In this brilliant galaxy how will you hear the star that calls to you? ~ CLP 18/02/2021 →
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On Mercury
Retrograde movement an optical illusion Orpheus, don’t look! ~ n.b. Apparently there is a bit of thing when Mercury is backsliding for nostalgia. Being grateful for the good things is one thing, wallowing in the past – meh. ~ CLP 17/02/2021 →
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C3 (Day 42): Lent
Who was it that had my copy of The Football Grounds of Great Britain? ~ n.b. I cannot imagine I ever let anyone borrow that from me, but no sign of my copy of the classic text by Simon Inglis and I would never have knowingly given it away. The Football Grounds of Europe is →
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L3: (Day 40) Night Forty
For forty days and forty nights we stumbled on hoping for better ~ CLP 15/02/2021 →
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L3 (Day 32)
Carrow Hill blurs; mist gives way to an easterly wind moving people urgently along the street except those that can’t, who shuffle wrapped in padded coats. . Thorpe St Andrew beyond the railway behind a grey shroud of rain is the backdrop to the shopping park lit bright at noon. Darkness is upon us. . →
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L3: Day 29 On The Bridge
I was walking back from the shop, carrying a paper bag of groceries in my arms when I reached the bridge. I have been here before, but not like this. There has usually been some kind of run up, run out, or just gradually being run down. Not this time. I just thought, from nowhere →
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L3 (Day 28): At the Window
Another day of tears. A venerated old man died along with one thousand, four hundred and forty-eight other UK victims of the pandemic. Tomorrow Will Be Good Day is the title of his book. With that hope in my heart I withdraw from this one. ~ CLP 02/02/2021 →
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On Playing xvii
You playing or not quite certain what the game is? Me neither. Your turn! ~ n.b. The uncertainty seems to be increasing as physical distancing continues. Does anyone know what is happening to us? I write from a place of personal freedom, personal distance, personal isolation. Good days, bad days, happy days and sad. When →
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On Playing ii
Saturday at three is when the fun really starts Oh, yes! And the pain ~ n.b. A lifetime of training my body to endure watching Pompey all over England means my adrenalin and endorphins peak around 3pm on winter Saturday afternoons…what happens from there is a game. I used to play a bit too, not →
Journey of Words 