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Author Archives: Cate Anderson
BLACKBERRIES
To walk that road again – a lane? Passed stubbled fields. Kildarra up to Nolan’s farm. Pick purple blackberries on the way. A small child’s handful. Turn left at milk churns waiting by wild fushias live with bees. We squeeze … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
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Refuge
1971, England. Marriage is the highpoint of a woman’s life and a man’s home is his castle. But for some the front door doesn’t keep danger out. It keeps it in. Half a century ago a battering on the street … Continue reading
Posted in Prose
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THE CLOUTIE TREE
THE CLOUTIE TREE Madron Well Cornwall She wakes, May day. Checks her phone, sees summer comes at last. Leaves sleeping houses Take the inland road, through greening landscapes strewn with granite quoit and capstone shadows – black against the salmon … Continue reading
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MONEY
I park the car, turn off the wipers, stand in the rain a while to get my bearings, then collect a trolley. You look up and nod your head half hidden in your parka’s sodden fur as the automatic doors … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
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In Yorkshire (a rondeau)
In Yorkshire – to the North York Moors – its heather, dales and rugged shores. Backdrop to those telly dramas – Heartbeat and that soap ‘bout farmers – destinations for fans’ coach tours. They’re queuing up – the more mature … Continue reading
WHEATFIELD WITH CROWS – Vincent van Gogh 10 July 1890
A day of throbbing heat. A storm simmers in the raging sky – a brooding sky. It swirls and eddies against the coruscating wheat like a storm wracked sea on rocks. A wreckers sky. The promise of forgetfulness in its … Continue reading
BLUE
A haibun – two poems, a prose poem and haiku. The haiku supporting the prose poem. I pass through the hawthorn hedge, from darkness into light – dazzled by the summer sun. Stand ankle deep in grasses as damselflies flick … Continue reading
World Music
I will go to Spain – the heat won’t worry me – to sit in cantinas with gypsies playing frenetic guitars. The clap and stamp of their hands and heels will make frills and flounces flash and flick. I’ll ache … Continue reading
Convent School Memory
Among the pea sticks and neat rows of veg A nun stoops low to tend the shooting plants. A girl looks on, unseen beyond the edge Of this bucolic scene, caught in the slant Of late spring sunlight glancing through … Continue reading
Memento Mori
A prose poem performed at the Leeds Lit Fest in March 2020. Inspired by a photograph of an abandoned house, the piece is about ageing. How, when we are old our memories become our sanctuary. Walk with me through this … Continue reading