Little Linda : FOUR

“They think me odd.” She said.

“But Girl you know that this is because you are not of their world.”

“How do I live & find happy here?” She asked.

“Simple.” He replied. “You look within.”

Available to collect HERE.



There are days –

of lightness – as if seedhead blossoms

take flight on linen-fresh wind rush-d-days

& I am ok

& the world is ok too :

I do not mourn your loss nor dwell on youthful lithe

carefree laughter / joy – vodka jelly high jinx / pranks

hustle of Covent Garden tube

strobe lights of Ministry of Sound.

I do not miss my best friend

the others who scattered like fragile leaves

when frosts threatened –

when single parenthood

weighed heavy upon slim-slumped-shoulders

& I sat alone with Cloudy Bay for company.

There are days when I am ok

even though I mourn the passing of mum

the treachery of family undone despite the shadow of her ashes

family / friends /youth flown

characters blown

to a million / trillion splintered smithereens.

All that was is gone

except in mind

and I reflect scorn at the unfamiliar reflection of unfamiliar body

world-worn / weary.

But today –

I am ok as I watch Rome burn,

goodly-goofy-citizens-consuming microwave-salt-d-popcorn


bloody clowns!

/ red-gorgeous-poppies

nod sagely in the field nearby

lone weeping willow weeps

premature rusted leaves no longer green

aberration of nature.