Sadly, the fugitive Raoul Moat has killed himself rather than go peacefully into police custody, on the bank of a river in an area he loved as a child. He was heard to say "I don't have a dad"... and that no one cared for him. Poignant words, that remind us how often the roots of crime and violence are a wounded heart, a lonely soul. May he rest in peace. May his victims, also, find peace.
A poem for my mother, July 15 When she was dying And I was in a different country I dreamt I was there with her Flying over the ocean very quickly, And arriving in the room like a dream And I was a dream, but the meaning was more Than a dream has – it was a moving over time And land, over water, to get love across Fast enough, to be there, before she died, To lean over the small, huddled figure, In the dark, and without bothering her Even with apologies, and be a kiss in the air, A dream of a kiss, or even less, the thought of one, And when I woke, none of this had happened, She was still far distant, and we had not spoken.
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