In quite a startling natural way


my father died.

He was asleep and just




We were all there.

Gathered like participants in

a bizarre celebration

Hands held together.

A silent clarity descended.

Which was all too soon

swept away on a tide of talk,

people, tea

and other peoples


falling like leaves

from the copper beech.

Former Picture Editor, sometime photographer and poet. Now looking after Undercliffe Cemetery. A Grade 2* Listed Heritage Site. A Victorian jewel in Bradford, West Yorkshire.

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