Category: Almost old

Thou house—a poem

Our family was a movable community squatting in house after house never suitable and never ours. Each new vicarage was a thrill but icy or haunted or just too small they never were homes for our mother, not at all. Imagine moving, moving, moving seven times in fourteen years gathering daughters along the way. And then […]

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Air Be and Be—a poem

I’m an AirBnB host in Mount Victoria, Wellington, New Zealand. A series of always delightful people stay with me for 2–5 days if and when it suits us both.

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