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Music of The Christmas Tree Monoculture
There is no birdsong hereThe only light comesIn the precious minutesAt dawn and again at duskWhen the planet’s rotationBrings the Sun to the horizonAnd its beams splay outBeneath the dense conifer spreadWhere the wind orchestratesAn arrhythmic swish and hissOf Norwegian Spruce needlesBroken only by swathes of silenceThis mournful brushingIs relentless as the wavesOn the eastern →
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Wild Garlic
Shimmering sheets of ramsonsSpread through the woodRipple in the feckless breezeFootsteps fall softAs if in day old snowEvery gentle crunchEmits another pungent breathBetween harsh shadowsOf ash and sycamoreSquinting in steely sunlightShe stoops to gatherA small handful here another therePicking her way homeWith spring-stained fingers~ CLP 07/04/2025 →
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on trees
this Winter lingersno polite exita tip of the hata nodno stepping aside to wave in Springthis winter bids us an insincere farewellpretending it ought leave nowbut waitan umbrella forgottona scarfoh, a glovemy coat! I forgot my coatjust when I thoughtthe door can be firmly closedon the back of this recalcitrantit drags itself reluctantly down the →
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on Spring
Sun’s inundationdowses ripened hawthorn budsblossom bursts open~ n.b. Gentle twist of fate, a trip to seek Spanish sunshine and warmth coincided with a change in the weather for the better in East Anglia, with that high pressure system locking in total cloud and consequent rain in Spain, mainly everywhere, not just on the plain. On →
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on dawn (sparrows)
Push Rush Swoosh BreathePush Rush Swoosh BreathePush Rush Swoosh BreatheBlackbird calling Time!Marking its territoryPush Rush Swoosh BreathePush Rush Swoosh Breatheacross the terracetwo floors downa glass door slidesplastic wheels on plastic runnerthe shallow cough of a restless smokerdesperate for fresh toxicityscrape of metal chair on balcony tilesclick of lighterexhalation of first fag draginto steel grey lightPush →