by Alwyn Marriage
the lane was overgrown and pot-holed, and when I reached the end, I found the chapel was in ruins. behind the south wall, where the sun had not gained entry yet today the ground was rimed in frost and stillness of such deep intensity that I could hear no sound, not even a falling stone or wind rustling the trees until a robin landed, bursting into song to announce that for this lonely worshipper morning service had begun.
Alwyn Marriage’s twelve books include poetry, fiction and non-fiction — most recently, The Elder Race (novel) and Pandora’s pandemic (poetry). Her new collection, Possibly a Pomegranate, will be published in Spring 2022. She has given readings all over Britain and Europe and in Australia and New Zealand. Formerly a university philosophy lecturer and CEO of two international literacy and literature NGOs, she’s currently Managing Editor of Oversteps Books. www.marriages.me.uk/alwyn