Author

bookworm

Recent Entries

  • The Day Amrita Stood Against the Axmen

    The Day Amrita Stood Against the Axmen   I’ve found the only cool spot on the knoll under a copse of khejri acacias. Bandhu, our huge black and tan shepherd, pants and watches the goats. He lets me lean against him for a pillow. The nannies chew their cuds while the kids play butty game...
  • Lotus

        My roots suck nutrients  from the rot in the mud.   Water is my world; its skin, my cloak.  I thirst for light.   When young my bud strove to open  in the gloaming of pre-dawn, but shrunk in fear and closed  at the blinding bright zenith ...
  • Letter in reply to a friend - Credo - Explaining myself

    Beloved Twinkle Dink asked a question on the main board last week, "would you explain yourself?"I'm sure it was one of those delightfully enigmatic and playful questions that he knew would be difficult to answer.The following letter, part of an exchange with my friend Elspeth, goes part way to expla...
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  • Impermanence

    Impermanence   As they have for millions of years, these trees tower.  Softly they are dressed in damp velvet mosses, liverworts,  festooned with stag-horn epiphytes, studded with orange slivers of fungi.  Drunken fragrances commingle,  damp earth, leaf litter, f...
  • Her gold-plated grappling hooks

    Her gold-plated grappling hooks    Titanium light and tungsten strong, her gold-plated grappling hooks streamline back into her undercarriage, as she, surveillance master,  sours the thermals. The flecks of her grey breast  blend with the flecks of cirrus clouds; at one ...
  • Mercurial Man

    Oh, Mercurial Man,   We are the land — its water — its heated air. We are the land alive, unique in semi-arid life. Call us Bimblebox of Galilee.  In this shred of wild you can hear us,  in fitful fighting, hissing, spitting chorus, amid the windy grasses’ sus...
  • Faint Hearted

    Faint Hearted   Children stand at attention in ranks and files,  sway in heat waves on tarmac. Headmaster drones on and on. The girls’ uniform is white shirt under forest green tunic, four pleated layers of nylon sucking up the sun. It itches.  Wet face, salt in the eyes...
  • Denial, Grief, Hope and Survival

      I’ve been suffering grief for what feels like a very long time now - four years - since I first read Guy McPherson's major essay on global warming on his site Nature Bats Last. Tears threaten just below the surface of my awareness most of the time - erupt at the slightest ...
  • Grief hovers

        Grief hovers over my shoulder, nudges sore at the back of my eyes, chokes my throat, hollows my chest, robs me of my stomach. What fruit can I offer you, guru Earth? O you who showed me how to love, the fragrant flowers for your grave have died. Sandlewood and myrrh have turne...
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