I don’t make New Year resolutions (my resolution is not to make them) but I’ve been pondering my place in the universe, myself a micro-dot in the scale of the cosmos. I have no conclusion except that I do have a place, however small, that I belong, as everyone does …
COSMIC
I re-arrange the air around me 
pile it on my hands
balance it on my head
lick small drops
the smell of starlight
leaves me wondering
is anything left on earth
I should taste touch hear?
a single hair floats onto my leg
creating an explosion
of weight on my skin
I lift the hair
in order to understand how
the cosmos leans on me
day after day
To Bethlehem: ‘This little book is delightful, full of … poems on this timeless subject. … the most fun is the little prose vignettes of the common people in the Christ-child story. The slave who looks after the wise men’s camels, or the overworked maid at the inn who has to fetch water for the birth, and many more. A lovely gift for the reader on your Christmas list!’ Rosalind Adams. Available from Amazon and Kindle.
1960willowtree 