Writing, after the rains came

We are... sea lavender Kentucky bluegrass daisies and tulips couch grass turmeric mint and ants. by Irene Leach Bamboo and water...

As educators, we have little time to reflect on our practice. I'm convinced that the reason for this is largely political - who knows w...

Your Oestrogen’s on the wane, they said But if I’m honest I saw her heading out the door ages ago Skipping and jumping hand in hand ...

They say we're the same Yet my shirt bears the unique imprint of my DNA as pre-sewn double helix insignia While your tie constricts a...

When I was a child, my mum used to complain about the bamboo in her garden. She would pull it up from one place, and it would pop up in a...

It was a year of words So full, that some spilled over To be corralled into formal shapes others gravitating to half-forgotten sedime...

'Art does not wait for the human being to begin' (Deleuze and Guattari) I'm walking along the River Nidd, down past the viaduc...