Little Sparta

Among the stones, inscriptions For drowned ships and fallen leaders, Stands of alder and of birch The frozen souls of … More

Otter

In honour of this liquid creature / Who twists between worlds / Blending shadow and light

Cool and clear / Their voices curve / Through the night air

We walk in / Over water-creases / Across snow-fields

The white houses that hug the hillside by day / Are set adrift in an inverted world by night / Floating, tilted on the lip of the sea

Their optical illusion / Acquires depth / And governs minds

I miss your joy / At tasting the first fruit of each season