1
Grappling with some small understanding of this place, this time, we're in" my poem "In a BishopsWood ClearingJay Woodman
2
The children walk away from me, flick flickety off at a tangent between thin blotched beech trunks, then turn like yo-yos at the end of their strings and come back to me" from the poem "In a BishopsWood ClearingJay Woodman