as eyes seize it
light on
the spider that wasn’t there
is still there
saxophone
between the trees
in the rain
after
in the mirror
a seagull’s legs
at the top
of a lifetime of scree
fog
the leaf raft of life
in the riptide of the past
disintegrates
walking
through the houses of the past
so many fools
that one song
takes me back to you
sing it again
autumn
has got the wind up
visiting cat
slowly
like that fallen tree
we transduce
the powerful signal
of a lifetime
as the moon sinks
so the moon rises
frog pond
autumn stocktaking
my followers are falling
leaves in the wind
predawn
waiting for the shadows
to darken light
a path he walks
to dispel apathy
he strolls on
rain
can i
yes you can
shall i
or
the light
that was in a chopped tree
lays heavily
autumn funeral
well i ask you!
brown leaves
end of the pier
when time finally runs out
you are an island
when it’s raining
walk in the rain
think of the rain
swim in the rain
conurbation
deep in the latin quarter
a sunflower
torrential rain
i stop swimming and look up
opening my arms
his top hat is not
big enough for the vomit
of the electorate
they moved the chairs
while the world was burning
so that we could watch
sea swim
the smell of bacon butties
from surfside cafe
tomorrow
will be the day after
all this
a support group
for people who think they don’t need
apple pips
i flick an orchard
into a field
heavy rain
back from an afternoon walk
we were lucky
sitting in the castle
listening to the flag dragon
hot autumn wind
the slow slipping over
fingers on dew
the leaves fluttering
down down down
it is history
water under the bridge
silt in the delta
dusk settles
the self-delusion of a day’s
just deserts
haiku
in the failing light
flash
oh gosh
it is wet now
dusk
and with that
the dusk fades my eyes
and the trees
the cherry blossom
with its leaves falling
is on fire
the rolling up
of the many layered woods
by the owl night
questionnaire
the fall
of memory
leaves
across the atlantic
the boat named autumn leaves
starboard light
darker
and darker and darker
red evening
vicissitude
after a rough swim
i woke up
pearly dusk
the soup is simmering
red leaves fall
rough sea
choosing which wave
to dive under
the sun moves
different shadows talk
of the year’s turning
espresso
small cup makes a big haiku
psychoactive
eating grapes
at three cliffs bay
Indian summer
writing poetry
the rubbish cart’s lights flashing
suggest a redraft
a light out at sea
undecided tides of thought
happy or sad
i can see the wind
in everything but the wind
i can hear the wind
can the wind hear the wind
can the wind see itself
apple leaves fall
chrysanthemums flowers
all is yellow
12.4 hours
the clock gene of the ocean
is in my blood
sunset
screwing my eyes
pond bottom
getting drunk
after throwing three double tops
in the osborne
daddy
sailing leaf boats
under the bridge
low sun
the watering can days
are over
a wild sea
diving under the waves
riding the swell
finding the rhythm
of myself
holding the stone
i become a splash
decision
shortening
the wasp and spider days
of rotting apples
an apple
bouncing off the greenhouse
rolled across the lawn
finders keepers
turning over a new leaf
a new leaf
shadows on the throw
the cat and the sunshine
walk on parts
stone buddha
greening slowly in the rain
shortening days
poetry
slowly turning pages
in the park
leaf fall
on the scaffold of autumn’s
tumbrel
after the storm
a fallen chair’s silence
damp garden
white is soft
white is hard
a lone voice sings
morning pussy cat
i am back in the land of
the dying
autumn leaves
chasing the poets
around in circles
the past is all hooks
scrolling my timeline
i have written five poems
the glory that is roam
one just once
the exhilaration
of a leaf in flight
expletive deleted
casts the first stone
****
a badger moon
after a night of rain
revelation
suddenly
where once there was a thought
a poem
after heavy rain
the big pool soon drains away
all my worries
autumn rain
the cherry tree is turning
black sky
tea and scones
entering the spider days
falling leaves
a spider
being a spider
before the ceremony
there is the ceremony
of preparation
mass extinction
who is building the ark
book me a seat
many languages
same message
the leaves are falling
surely we are one of them
blowing hot and cold
mutually
on a wet afternoon
um? um? um? um?
cat at a rainy door
maybe tomorrow
arms up my sleeves
now both hands are warm again
rain window
bracing swim
wearing winter vests again
the year turns
the flow of words
undulations of the tide
left high and dry
they think they
are erecting the fence
from the inside
darkness
am i inside this prison
or outside
old age
bouncing along the bottom
above a waterfall
dogs bark
god’s caravan parses
ships sink
storms
the feral cat’s breakfast
half in claws
castles in the air
looking up at that sand dune
aching legs
sudden commotion
from all the gulls and crows
a kestrel
pantomime
oh no it isn’t
oh yes it is ‘nt
that instant when
the higher centres censor
sleeps remiss
for such is the essence of
a haiku writer in full flow
whatever
there may be no tomorrow
always go
the lunatic
trying to catch the slow wink
of the monthly moon
shipping forecast
have i ever been been
occasionally moderate
annoying floater
drifting down my spectacles
a wee spider!
plum tree
tight buds
the clown’s trunk
the elephant in the room
holding a tale
the nettles
have eaten the path
another year passes
strange the bank of life
it seems the more you take out
more interest there in
rustle rustle
the pheasant leaves
a feather
childhood
brambling blackberries
ladybird nettles
the tide
not at the height i prefer
doesn’t care
i fear the dangerous rip
it doesn’t fear me
it’s not the seascape
or the mountain skies
it’s the walker
dawn
petting the cat
soft music
moss on the stone buddha
growing awareness
strutting on horseback
the dictator nears the cliff
breaths are held
a spam email
offers me a branded lanyard
i take the poem
epidemic effect
seeing the dahlias
as coronaviruses
the moon
from behind a cloud
freezes a tree
in the lobelia
fungi
evicting the cranefly
into the rain
white haired
lobelia in the rain
such a thin smile
such a privilege
to watch the last leaves falling
in autumn’s boudoir
snowfield
like those fossilised footprints
i am the first
they say it was
you say it may be
i say i am
a shower
like the windfalls of summer
suddenly stops
in translation
the poem speaks a language
i understand
rustle rising
a grey wind turns golden
in the corn field
above the wild sea
a particle physicist is reading
it’s a small world
on the marsh path
a dragonfly a cock pheasant
and two snail men
tap tap tap
on the morning barometer
pleas
egret
slowly slowly flows
our river
many steps
leading up to the temple
each one a prayer
october
cobble stones drying
begonia glowing
the radiation
clicking like my knees
counts dawn
aches and pains
more me than me
these days
shrieking with laughter
the sea oils my joints
the sea is arguing on the playground of the rocks
we write rubbish
in the midden of the past
it turns to gold
nowadays
i need an ancient shrine
to question
to tell all my fears to
to get absolution
how sweet
the last plum of summer
october sunshine
neighbours ~ i ask you
not an inch of our apple tree
hangs over their fence
laughter
the sea is giggling and spluttering
with me
look to see
if a stone has a hole
through it
on the doorstep
having to
was the one
the one who climbed lampposts
old bruises blues
speeding
up a one way street
a sparrow hawk
red geraniums
the wheel’s come off their barrow
neighbour’s ornament
cock pheasant
how close may i come
before
pacing
a cloud’s shadow
along the beach
shut tight
barnacles on a rock
at low water
a purr
as long as the cat’s tail
after breakfast
trees dripping
on me