Sometimes you have to go with the flow. I had a catastrophe with my new painting today. I had just begun with delicate washes of grey, lemon, blue and violet when my cat Spider crashed through the cat flap – soaking wet and dripping after falling into the stream at the bottom of my garden. She shook herself, splattering water on my masterpiece and then lay down on it. So I decided to transform it into this….not my usual style but fun. I’m calling it April Showers.
We drive south into a ferrous wind.
The sky unclenches. Fingers of rust
stain the peaks of Morven and Scaraben,
old blood on a crumpled sheet.
The land trembles with yesterday’s news.
Barbed and shredded. Bales of hay sheathed
in pink stack the sweetness of last summer.
Sheep dot and dash the fields like broken
teeth spat into a steel bowl. Crofts cower,
trees twist into submission. Amputation
-dislocation. Strike a pose. Resistance
is futile. Across the border smoke rises,
thin entrails signalling your departure.