Curated decay

Ten years ago I came here
With poets and erstwhile poets,
I among them, so a moment in my history
is written down, embedded with all the hopes of then.
Controlled Ruination, I called the piece.
It was October. This April day,
The same beware was given:
Unexploded bombs –
to keep us on the straight and narrow
paths from which we must not deviate.
I came unexpectedly with friends,
equally surprised to find this spit
of land pebbled with stories.
We were gifted the official phrase:
Curated Decay.

Easter at East Lodge – Naomi came over for our dinner. Behind Time Flies, the latest installation!

A few days before – Ukrainian dinner with Michaels cookery club, two days of clearing up the kitchen behind Michael! And the smell of boiled cabbage, pervaded: very authentic.

What a face of a man.

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