The Last Wolf in England

I talk to BJ at the street homeless centre in Lancaster. He is a head taller than me, a beard that’s a huge thicket, eyes that hide in his face….

We watch wind sprites make their fingerprints on the surface of Kentmere reservoir. Walking back in the dusk, braced against the end of the night. As we drive home, see…

The Crown of Thorns is an ancient Welsh stone circle renamed in Christian times for its resemblance to the crown used to torture Christ in the last stages of his…

For the last three times I’ve been into the street homeless centre  LDHAS I’ve had long conversations with BJ about wolves and their meaning. BJ called himself a lone wolf…

Red Rose Recovery, a substance abuse recovery support agency, is the venue I’ve chosen for a sequence of poetry workshops. The writers gather each week, working to make poems themed…

Met the keeper of heaven one morning when I started this project. Didn’t know it was such an important individual at first. Just some homeless guy called BJ with a…

Call up the good weather Don’t see foxes often, except Of a Midsummer, under a nightsky Deep almost as frost. Look anywhere you like There’s life. And yet, look again:…