In the end, everyone is aware of this:nobody keeps any of what he has,and life is only a borrowing of bones. Pablo Neruda The Beginning Our lives are bent, twisted and folded into shape by what we make of it and what is given to us. Like an echo of the earth’s crust, we fold …
As I write this, my two daughters 19 and 22, are happily exchanging news as their paths cross briefly before they are off again (spoiler, it’s not always like this). Having them living at home is (mostly) contagious joy for my partner and I, the highlight of the new COVID era. It means I have …
This poem was presented to my daughter Cassia Remy Carnell on the last day of school 28th November 2019. One last moment The moment she walks through the school gate For the last time.School shoes from Year 7 Flung skyward to the nearest power line.Abandoned in defiance, elation, completion.It’s over.I don’t need to hold it together …
