• David Hodges

    Nothing in November / Rien en novembre

    Nothing in Novemberbut dark daysof black seas ragingpounding the broken shore,blinding sprayand the foam roaring,pouringthrough the red teethof the red raw rockscarred by the buffetingof endless stormsand the wild sea lashing.Dark days merge into sightswhen the sea of my heartrefuses rest. When the biting coldchills the bone,and the endlessroar and…

  • Peter Finch

    An Alteration In The Way I Breathe

    we crossed the mountainswith the rising of the sunthe dawn racing ahead of uslike a mad horse on the other sidethe valleythe riverthe treesa whole landscapebathedin early sunlightstill shiveringwith the breathing of night I wonderedwhy the weightshad gone from my shoulderswhy the guns and kniveshad rusted in my belt our…

  • David Hodges

    The Old Priority

    What mysterieslie hidden here?Leaning spire, grey stone walls,tower, pond and rushes;heavy doors and cobbled floors,stone steps spiralto a loft and tower above;below, the choir,the chant now silent;sanctuary with its barrelled ceiling;Ogham stone with its Crossand ancient script;old gatehouse, dovecote,cloister, kitchen with its oven,monks’ living quarterswith battlements above;an ancient well,stepped ponds,walled…