Nine line cameos

This is another from a series of nine poems I wrote in early 2012. A few were published in different versions in London Grip . All nine of the poems were nine lines long and were concerned with the deaths or illnesses of poets and writers – perhaps a rather unhealthy preoccupation of mine at the time. I found the poems again today (see previous 2 posts) while looking through some files and I’d thought I’d share them here. I promise return to cheerier subjects in my next post.


4.30 am

Through a gap in the curtains
London railings pierce a wrap

of fog. She’s long since kissed
the children, left a note

to call the Dr, pressed her forehead
to frozen glass. Wet towels

and muslin are putty in the gaps.
There’s nothing more to do.

A milk-float rattles past.



  1. I loved 4.30 am; it wasn’t grim enough to spoil the start of my new year ; ) Thank you for stopping by my blog. I haven’t been well so I have got very behind with my posts. You have reminded me to at least update my poems page today and add a couple more poems. Thanks Roy. Happy New Year!


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