by rosanne | Oct 12, 2016 | Poetry
Rough-cut paper tells you it’s a first edition and the must takes you back — Years spent, nose down. Ink-smudges and fountain nibs, the romance Of Umberto Eco and sharp-edged medieval scores. There’s a deep Connection through time to these...
by rosanne | Sep 15, 2016 | Poetry
Long fingers and silver rings; that rhythm; that flight Of forefinger down a string; that tap of the fingertips Against the golpeador — one of your legs is crossed over The other and it all disappears but for the music. That slight frown on your brow...
by rosanne | Sep 15, 2016 | Poetry
His mother painted it, in another life. It is small — less than half a metre across, not quite square. At first glance, it’s nothing but greys, as if it could be Some 19th century industrial cityscape or Soviet town, But closer in, you see...
by rosanne | Sep 1, 2016 | Poetry
It goes without saying that spells of this kind generally require a kitten; At least one, more if there’s a storm brewing — the weather Is a fickle assistant. As to breed, well — the more docile specimens Tend to disrupt proceedings less....
by rosanne | Jun 15, 2016 | Poetry
In storage, one cardboard box filled with photographs. I know one grey envelope contains: Peppy, full name Peppermint, Aged 2 or so, inspecting one minuscule ball of black kitten fluff, Two weeks old, soon to be Nemesis, by name if not by nature. In...
