A Window

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Creased net curtains
with stocking details –

old man’s smoked glass –
a soiled two-way mirror… /

A Field Near Ripe

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Two crows in black robes
ghost into my untrusting
edge of sight –
that miscalculated corner
of slights – of misinformation

The Boundary Ghost

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A crop of prime turf
is to my back
My thin brick perch digs in
to my lowered leg aches
after a blind walk from Ripe’s
church across three fields –
now sat stiffly in Chalvington

No Rest

Do not tarry for too many minutes below Chanctonbury’s decimated circle of silvered-skin beech trees They were planted without regard for any long-term fixing agreement… Read More »No Rest

Hamilton Place

The tin top cottages
should be haunted – but there is no ghost –
no made-pail Hoogstraten …/

Ghost Holes

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This bar’s serving hatch is always left agape –
tonight I see it is a varnished picture frame
holding unfair perspectives of the pirouettes
of the not-Degas barmaids in uniform black …/