Tuesday, January 31
write a small stone (& hurrays & thankyous)
in honour of this year's River of Stones, rather than reading a small stone today I'd like you to write one and post it here. here's our Hurrays & Thankyous post with links to all our marvellous guest bloggers.
while I'm at it, a huge thank you to all the readers of a small stone over the years. you rock. (hee hee)
_/\_ (deep bow)
Monday, January 30
Sunday, January 29
Saturday, January 28
after a walk on the hills
the usual talk of relationships, meaning, death. sipping our lemonade. looking out towards Wales.
Friday, January 27
Wednesday, January 25
after service, stone passing
when I'm not watching, the fat church candle gutters & dies. we carry on talking.
Sunday, January 22
blind girl in Birmingham art gallery
she skims her fingers over the intricate stone sculpture, starting at the middle, working her way out. the woman reads information from the wall - dates, names. the man with them stands to one side, looking bored. the girl can't see him.
Saturday, January 21
Friday, January 20
Thursday, January 19
Wednesday, January 18
Tuesday, January 17
Tsuki kitten, post-op
they have cut her open and taken something out. hours later she races around the house, wanting food, wanting to play, wanting to go outside. her stitches look raw, frightening. her body is healing, all by itself. they have cut her open and taken something out.
Sunday, January 15
miniatures from a morning walk
a red berry smeared on the pavement. a crop of tiny cyclamen, white & pink. letters scraped into a windscreen's ice. a smudge of reddish dog shit. three brushstroke people on the peak of the hill.
Saturday, January 14
Friday, January 13
Thursday, January 12
Wednesday, January 11
Tuesday, January 10
at Caroline's pond
the memory of yesterday's kingfisher spotting
(my first)
returns in a brilliant flash of blue
(my first)
returns in a brilliant flash of blue
Sunday, January 8
Saturday, January 7
Friday, January 6
Thursday, January 5
sending out my attention in a circle
a cough from behind a closed door. radio noise. faint shadows of raindrops against the sky. fatty's black bottlebrush tail. my diary open at today, telling me what to do. my thirst.
Wednesday, January 4
Monday, January 2
monday, malvern hills
the bullying wind pushes at my coat and snatches at my breath. moss on the hill leans towards lime green. a half sliver of moon has been left behind from the night before, or arrived early. on the way home, we pass a tree overwhelmed with scarlet berries.
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