The Caterpillar Poems

Those days with the wind swaying in the trees
those grey misty days of swirling leaves,
of tumbling autumn days falling into water -
the sea lapping around the legs of the pier
...

'Who are you? ' asked the caterpillar
but I didn't know - so what could I say?

I thought about it for a bit
but realized there was no answer
...

A jackdaw
at the back door
with a hacksaw
in his black claw
...

Fresk kommolek ebrenn
glas pilenn hwyth a-ves
tarosvann-pallenn
ha treusnija-leurienn dhe an bran
...

Granite snowman
growanek growth of gold
lichen licks your old head -
your grass-skirt and blessed
...

You hollowed out my poem
and stuck your
(adverts)
into it
...

Old crow
your eyelids are grey
rapidly blinking
some small loose feathers fluttering
...