The last few weeks it’s been a rumour, a half-caught glimpse. An is-it-isn’t-it-? hovering on the edge of my awareness. This morning I caught full sight of it, breathed it full in and had to agree with the words it spoke – ‘Autumn’s coming…’ Plain as the chicken in the fox’s mouth on our steps… Continue reading Black Mountain River time again
Yesterday, I wrote a piece called Black Mountain River. You can read it here, but you might want to wait a moment (or not.) This post isn’t another piece of poetry, nor of prose fiction. It’s just about the writing of Black Mountain River.
Autumn begins. It doesn’t take much; One tug at my feet by Autumn’s grey strangers And I’m away Or rather, perhaps, Returning.