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In 2008 four long-serving teachers – with getting on for a century of service between them – took their retirement.   I wrote poems to commemorate them all but never shared them.   The titles are their initials.





                                                                                 on the topmost branch
                                                                                 lurching occasionally
                                                                                 from side to side

                                                                                 the blackbird sang its
                                                                                 various innovative


       on the endless voyage
       the amphora
       leaned forward
       then back always
       with graceful
       lip and glazed
       blue detail
       amid the creaks
       and lurches


                                                                                 pages and pages
                                                                                 of data and document
                                                                                 but always the one


       they painted the walls
       blue and grey and red
       but they always remained





blackbird wormhole: the breath of London
blue & grey wormhole: midnight
branches wormhole: Is There / Life on Mars?
red wormhole: ‘turning into …’
sea wormhole: 1964 – open window
teaching & teaching craft wormhole: Struck
walls wormhole: ‘with delight …’