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I miss the changing view outside my window; how each new day discovered a new place, and the slow blossoming of days that felt like two. As I travelled I had bed and galley with me, saw friends each place I went, other boaters who waved, and easy chats by the lock side. Gone is […]
As the autumn day awakes, she wraps her son in the soft routines of morning, and time is still. The phone shrills on the wall – his voice fragments – “darling … a hijack… I love you…” — connections break. She stares down at the phone, at the clock at weekend coats, his slippers, the […]
We talk and stroll among the trees and brambles. I make space with a cautious question an offer to listen. You respond, then step aside onto safer ground. You say little, listening to my chatter, seldom of any consequence – I don’t know how to interpret your quiet. Unvoiced questions, like rain are falling in […]
Imagination baits me – mother to relentless thoughts, a fierce dance in my head to bruise my weary mind and snake through empty hours. They move through the night, trip me up in the darkness with quiet, persistent words loud as a headline. They howl, and silently bear my heart away, worry it like a […]
Thank you for being the firm centre of my world. I may dash here and there to listen, hug and comfort, write or pray – But always circle back again to home, and you. Your love grounds me in stability – roots to my giving, an anchor in storms. Where would I be without you? […]
Feigning confidence, I hide behind illusions of openness – always reaching and seeking from a reserved arm’s length. Though contained, I want to dance barefoot across a polished floor giddy with laughter and dreams. Fragmented and intensely whole – content and wise and desolate – too much trouble to notice or know. — Christine […]
You think you already know me, already have the measure of my soul. Not so. Experience has changed its shape beyond the limits of your knowledge. Beyond your interest, too? — Christine Rigden
We traced the edge of the sky on the gaunt grey rubbled hill. Distant on the wind, a lonely sound drew us on, beguiling voice of a rough-hewn land. We watched wings dip and soar beyond our recognition. A pensive lament threaded on the air securing our hearts to this wilderness, unfamiliar home. — […]
Morning dawns crisp and cold; light pours through the arches. Time stands aside as the train approaches inflexibly and words are drowned. The engines throb against the walls that enclose me. Your touch finds a chink in my numbness – and I walk home alone. — Christine Rigden
Like a windswept moor emptiness keens through me, catches my breath. Sleeting tears numb the grey hours. Cold granite offers shelter and I sleep. — Christine Rigden