without second glance grass, rushed passed to reach a car. Regularly mown. White feather bone between brown blades twitches
Industrial Estate herbaceous plot client/employee pleasant, cans caught by 2 shrubs. No flowers, yellow provided by weed.
Invisible Garden: car park grass, daisies tiny suns, yellow splashes among sunburnt brown, new green, tab ends, grass explores beyond border
Fresh cut wheat like first bread dust bakery in a field. Childhood dash through sharp cut stalks flail ankles blood pain. French bread joie
Mechanically scythed corn, harvested into grey plastic bags, vegetarian sausage rolls spread evenly over short fields.
People act in permanent urgent enquiry. Events, others must be analysed, dissected, discussed. Eyes wide taking it all in.
Where there is no rest. All is doing, action. No one sleeps, no comfortable places. There is hard work and harder. All sweat.
Sweet smells are abhorred. Only rank, decaying substance must adorn necks, wrists, showers/baths. Stink is good, pong better
Has been found dead, its outline in the street. Another town/city has taken its identity. It has been absorbed into growing
Attends its own funeral/baptism. Respectfully dressed. Remembers blanket over its face, then around its young form.
Catches glimpses of itself in other places, same street pattern, same shops and wonders whom is copying whom.
Where everything is one size bigger, or smaller than you need it to be. Clothes hang, pinch, portions bloat/starve.
When you need to be quick, there’s always a queue one person who takes ages, your shoe breaks, you spill a drink, something
Items are only sold in twos or threes when you only want one, or its BOGOF when you want one at half price.
The idea of a shop is unknown. People know which items they own are equal value to others. Know others by word of mouth.
Amidst the carnage of Peace, War continues as if nothing has happened. Remembrance of Peace in War, War in Peace.
Quiet light in trees canopy. Quiet light warms pavement stone walls graves. Quiet light falls as this hand falls
Facts are plain.
During afternoon Sanctuary Wood taken over by 1/5th Lincolns Royal Fusiliers. fourth company remained at battalion headquarters inside the wood itself.
1.30 p.m. several high calibre shells fired into S.W. corner of wood, one falling directly into newly occupied trench 7. This trench contained machine-gun post,. Two men killed instantly, Privates Tom Burtwhistle from Scunthorpe and 18-year-old drummer Harold Laurence from Aswell Street in Louth. Both men now commemorated on the Menin Gate memorial to missing Ypres.
Both men recorded as casualties in the 1/5th Lincolns War Diary
The wood was not a sanctuary
Hand rolled half smoked white tab ends decorate pavement, road outside a terrace: random fortune telling sticks
Behind bus stop sharp fresh cut wheat field tossed crushed empty beer cans, discarded pizza boxes: harvest.
Metal hanging basket black bin bag carpeted weedfull nailed beside front door Green tulip bulbs in bakers window
washing lines strung between house and back fence yellow, blue, red plastic washing pegs at intervals: ready
Between houses white scratched wooden panelled door leans against one wall no door handles: one door closes
Warm Summer rain green bubbled hole top green recycling bin, rusty six inch nail outside broken gate: a to do?
Broken glass gleam on verges brick wall bottom green spaces between roads, glinting like children’s cut fingers.
The Wombwell Rainbow 