Ash Wednesday: we head into Lent, the season of introspection, also of looking outward at the suffering of the world, and trying to help …
NOT ALONE
no well-beaten track
through this empty land 
no imprints of feet
or bent bramble
no way to tell
who came this way
only the smell of ashes
the taste of dust
and a still small voice
leading onward
first published in Leaves of Ink
‘A Bedroom of Searchlights’: poetry. This collection draws a picture of the poet’s divorced mother, an artist with two children, who struggled with poverty, war, and the realities of daily life, yet still found beauty and comfort in her garden, and her art.
