In The Poetry

After my mother died when my father came to live with my family – three sons, my husband – it suddenly became apparent how little we still had in common. I didn’t behave very well. After he died I was desolate. And this is a poem written, I suppose, about a year after his death. [...]

Getting Older

The first surprise: I like it.
Whatever happens now, some things
that used to terrify have not:

I didn’t die young, for instance. Or lose
my only love. My three children
never had to run away from anyone.

Don’t tell me this gratitude is complacent.
We all approach the edge of the same blackness
which for me is silent.

Knowing as much sharpens
my [...]

Insomnia

The moon woke me, the pocked and chalky moon
that floods the garden with its silvery blue

and cuts the shadow of one leafy branch across
this bed of ours as if on to bright snow.

The sky is empty. Street lights and stars
are all extinguished. Still the moon flows in,

drowning old landmarks in a magic lake,
the chilly waters [...]

Some time after my husband retired I was appointed writer-in-residence to the University in Singapore and we decided to spend some months in the Far East. Just before we set out, though, my husband broke his ankle on a slippery pavement outside a Do-It-Yourself shop. But he very obstinately decided he was still going to [...]

Until recently I lived in England’s Lane and opposite our flat there was a service wash, and sometimes I talked to the lady who was officiating. This is dedicated to her.

Urban Lyric

The gaunt lady of the service wash
stands on the threshold and blinks in the sunlight.

Her face is yellow in its frizz of hair
and yet [...]