from BARDO

The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.

Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made

is star-stuff too?

– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –

dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.

Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.

Roselle Angwin

Sunday 24 September 2023

poem for the autumn equinox 2023


At the Year’s Autumn Turning



Penn ar Bed


This morning the sun lifts

right behind the silver birch

who’s been dropping her leaves

a few day by day, the first tree,

as she was to clothe herself

in spring. The more she lets go

the more the rest glow gold.




Ste Anne la Palud


Later the sea gentles at our feet,

breathes in and out, her tides

swell and subside; a constant,

just as the moon rises and fades,

each night a little different,

but always present.


There’s a constancy we crave

in our uncertain lives in these

uncertain times. Here on this

long Atlantic strand, we’re given it.

Roselle Angwin












Blog Archive