Dream Poem 88: Blue Dyed Yarns In a police car He is helping me. I am crying about… A woman walking down the high street in rags Blue dyed yarns in her hand. His place is a right mess, dust and clutter everywhere.
I am an interdisciplinary artist, poet, educator and folk musician. This page is for my poetry. There are some strong themes, some funny stuff, some sad motifs. Just letting you know dear reader.