From Hay-on-Wye (three poems)

That hill there in

the distance

with its tonsured

top-point

low on trees

maybe once was

home to forts

and war

though now stands

peaceful

people-free.

***

Orchard, like a

host of Van Gogh

peach tree

prints

remaindered

in a warehouse

waiting

for somebody

for some somebodies

to come with practised

hands to pick their

fruit.

***

riding shotgun with

a biro and

a notebook –

making spirographing

seizmographing

lines –

if I could drive

I

might have found

these places

sooner

but riding shotgun

with a biro

suits me fine