Familial: Selected Poems

We look up at the same sky; a sky that’s always changing.

Bright Star Love’s not bright and constant but only cheese on toast; a little glance, returning nod, a cup of tea, a smile, a nudge and sometimes, like a closing door, it needs a push before it turns and groans and opens to the garden. Another thing: the gaps between the cheese, the tea, the toast and sunny laughter - also matter - because it’s there, right there, that we remember to remember. And do, indeed, remember.