In May of last year I wrote the poem Mend, and then in December decided to make a pamphlet of 20 poems from 2020, new or mended. The cover image was from a collage I’d done in the summer.
In the morning to sit up alive,
weighted only with pages, light –
through the first cup of tea
and Hilary Mantel’s mirror.
To hear small invitations from goldfinches
mixed and repeated in trees outside,
charming through ordinary curtains,
welcome as postcards from friends.
Then-it-comes, here-it-comes, the slow
helicopter, circling reminder of the new
national trust. But it’s not our country
needing us now. It’s tomorrow.
Ideas and reflection. History. Love
and antibodies. To organise in time
honoured practical ways, worlds
where everyone can make do and –