Tag Archives: Bridget Khursheed

Bridget Khursheed

The seed drawer The handle of a trowel, matches that won’t strike, soft pellet boxes nibbled by slugs, keys, a bird’s claw And seeds that can’t grow. The spinach with which we planted our first year: it produced eternal crop … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | Leave a comment

Bridget Khursheed: Two poems

Bridges seduced by burns Come with me, forget your fingers of mere, reeds and whitethroats – whole grass seed peace – the muir fall of autumn. Don’t you want to see the tidefast end of it all; stanchions stabbing the … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | Leave a comment

Bridget Khursheed

The last days of petrol The ebb of a country lane and meadowsweet; or those hot verges seen from a corner for a second brown itching with seed; and the stop by an unfamiliar signpost; the humpback bridge over a … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | 2 Comments

Bridget Khursheed

Boundaries walking in a new place is so suitable for the foot that path with different levels small stones and moss that is not wet I don’t see any violets or siskins or goldcrest or anything interesting but the air … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | Leave a comment

Bridget Khursheed

Thoughts on an oatcake taken from a Highland soldier’s purse after Culloden and displayed a piece, a biscuit crumbled, crumbled and eaten on a battle morning in a glass case and a ball beside it the ball a bullet clean … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | Leave a comment