In late summer
at the lake

waiting to hear
the smooth sound

of waves
after sunset

a soft breeze
carries

only the rattle
of dry reeds.

(Highly Commended in the Poetry on the Lake competition 07)

Watching them
ploughing the field
after the rain

each seperate
pool of water
holding the sky

a shiver of light
before the pale blade
turning the earth.

(published in The Rialto 07)

Black ice
in white snow
uncovered in the rain

unable to stop
the gaze returning

to that jagged line
of footprints
tracing the way.

(published in Seam no26)

Two birds cross the morning
braiding the air

in a pale sky
the black, imagined lines.

(published in Poetry Scotland no 50)

In a café

of early mornings

& dark windows

surrounded by figures

heavy with fried bread

& the lack of sleep

all listening

to the fat waitress

of pale flesh

cheap lipstick

& spilt sugar

as she read

the menu

like a poem.