Soft, When It Rains

I work, often,
in cheap hardback,
maybe a hundred pages
writing with biro,

or question
or method
or felt tip
or in third reading
or pencil
or similar nights
or eat
or just enjoy notebooks
or to read someone’s work
soft, when it rains.

I was (wrong
I wanted to mirror
I concerned myself
I once wished
I can be forgiven
I gravitated towards the page
I was thinking
I can’t remember
I have written for many years
I like that sensation
I do not regret
I was very struck by light
I felt like a ghost
I made the decision not to talk very much

as a kind of haunting length
Lashing out at others
at dry hollow heads of thistles
physically reflecting animals

I immediately understand it all now
walking very slowly into the night.

Winston Plowes, 2014

Remixed work:
interview on Write Out Loud, 27 March 2013