From Ashes To Abundance

Featured · Something Grows Here

ZariahCaribbean & diaspora

For the reader seven months past the shutter, tired of being promised a copy of what went, this message refuses the forecast and teaches how to notice something small and living in ground that will never look the way it did.

Isaiah 43:1911 min

Nobody Came For The Frame

Nobody Is Rushing You Out Of This

A Word With Nobody To Say It To

The Second Toothbrush

The Hour You Used To Be Somewhere

The Gate Is Not Mine To Open

Two New Shoots

Waiting Until The Car Park Empties

Nobody Came For The Frame

Same Time In September

The Oil Falls On Mourning People

The Photographs Still In The Hall

The Shop Still Smells Of It

The New Chain On The Gate

The Pencil And The Rented Door Frame

The Shears Are Still Rolled Up

The Tuning Fork On The Windowsill

Life Was Always The Noun

The Size On The Label

The Note Was Right And I Was Not

The Box That Asks How Long

The Van Still Has My Name On It

The Token In The Kitchen Drawer

The Medal Goes Back In The Drawer

I Went Out To The Car Park

Two Cases And A Borrowed Room

The Number I Still Know By Heart

Somebody Lit It Off Their Own

The Bag Is Still By The Door

The Pan That Still Makes Two

The Clothes She Wore For Her Hands

The Marks Were On The Door Frame

The Shortest True Thing You Can Say

The Box Is Still In The Hall

The Door Frame Is Not On The Form

The Cardigan In The Second Drawer

Eleven Years In A Jar

Loved At The Gate You Drive Past

The Dog Still Gets Up

The Cases Are Still By The Wall

Four Words Is A Whole Song

Life, Not A Licence

The Anvil Came Out Of The Trailer

Two Keys And A Plastic Tag

Nobody Ever Asked For The Keys

The Marks On The Door Frame

The Brass Tap In His Coat

The Suitcases In The Hall

The Lettering Still Shows

A Pot Of Parsley She Nearly Threw Out

Seven Months In The Box Room

The Crate Still In The Boot

The Name Is Still On The Van

Gladness Is Not A Thing You Make

A Room With A Table In It

The Last Thing to Give Back

The Key That Opens Nothing

Kept Without A Picture

He Did Not Ask For The Whole Story

Two Suitcases In The Hall

They Brought The Doormat With Them

Nobody Came For The Cups

The Chip In The Coat Pocket

The Roll Of Chisels Under The Stairs

The Key She Never Took Off

A Card Still In The Drawer

A Mug That Came With The Place

The Bag That Did Not Fit In The Van

The Room With The Table In It

The Number On The Coin

The Roll Of Shears In The Cupboard

The Tack Hammer On A Tuesday

The Feed Bucket Still In The Boot

Twenty Minutes After the Shift

The Coin In The Kitchen Drawer

The Key Came Back Through The Door

The Gate My Grandfather Hung

Paragraph Forty One

You Do Not Have To Picture It

Something Is Coming Up In This Room