Wave Silo

I am sadly posting this on the day that the Western Black Rhino was reported extinct . This piece was Commended in the Somerset Short Story Competition 2013 , whose theme was 'Lost'. Copies of the resulting anthology are available for purchase from the organiser Alyson Heap - contact her at alysonheap [at] yahoo [dot] co [dot] uk. The Last Living Unicorns Ammassalik, Greenland, 1861 Their fur-covered backs against the dense packed snow, faces flickering in the flame at the centre of the iglu , four teenage children are listening in rapt attention to their storytelling aunt. In the story she tells them, there is a woman underwater, thrashing and turning in an attempt to disentangle herself from a harpoon rope, which surrounds her waist and whose sharp end has gone into a beluga. It was fired by her son. He used to be blind. When he was blind, she mocked him for it. This is his revenge - her efforts to free herself are in vain. Like a fly on a web, her struggle is

Sunday saw the prize-giving for the 2013 writing competitions ( Poetry , Short Story  and Crime Novel ) at the Wells Festival of Literature . This year I had one of my poems shortlisted, and the prize-giving at the Bishop's Palace was preceded by a reading of all 27 poems that made the cut. Those writers who could make it read their own work, the rest were well represented by the Festival's own readers. I felt blessed to be included in the shortlist from more than 400 entrants - particularly once we got to the reading, and it became apparent just what a high standard we were dealing with. I think a good half of the poets included were there, and everyone did a great job of delivering their work. I had a few family and friends with me and - truth be told - at the outset, the prospect of listening to 27 poems read aloud sounded dangerously akin to an endurance test. None of us felt that way at the end. It was a joy to be there. By the time we'd heard all of them I

Five poems about birds from folktales. This is the fifth part of an ongoing collaboration project - earlier installments were completed with Ben Platts-Mills, Llyr Pierce , Yusuf Azak and Erica Viola. In this case, Ceridwen Brown made the bird-helmet.

Today is a day for strong daffodils. Today is a day for my shadow, fitting exactly between the yellow lines of paint on the road. Today is a day for lambs lining up (almost) neatly on a ridge on the Tor, And for a lamb in the field to headbutt its mother's udder in search of milk, Overzealous, And for her to step gently to the side. Today is a day for thatched roofs, For eager birdsong, For pigeons to make a sound with their wings like the one they make with their throats. Today is a day to drive in a BMW or a Renault or a Citroen, Or to leave a Volkswagen or a Toyota or a Land Rover parked... Today is a day to practise the piano. Today is a day to queue for a record, Or not to queue for a record. Today is a day to walk two dogs, Today is a day for a businesswoman to wear a yellow ribbon. Today is a day to buy shoes for my wedding. Today is a day to be there in time for the bus.