Two poems by Kathy Pimlott

    As You Are 90, I Must Be 65 There’s something wrong with the guttering: it could be nests. When it rains cataracts drown the geraniums. This is one problem. Another is the rockery, overrun by Creeping Jenny and saplings which would become a forest left to their own devices. Someone stole the lilies-of-the-valley, and the heathers, which promised so well, have disappeared. The … Continue reading Two poems by Kathy Pimlott