Carrying on

I write this soon after waking: crunching cereal, sipping tea. The calm of yesterday has been buffeted by wind overnight, the wind is still with us. Yesterday evening we watched two programmes about the musician John Martyn...beautiful music but an angry and troubled man who didn't seem to find much peace, except with and through his music. The book of the moment is about the worth and value of poetry, it brings home the inadequacy of my own work in terms of the issues I don't tackle and my lack of depth in respect of the effort put into the work; much of my work is superficial, to do with presentation and distribution; too little to do with writing the poetry itself, but it is my course, I will follow this path for a while, certainly until the current projects are completed.