The door-well
To the north transept of Bath Abbey
Or looking out
From the rooftops of Durham Cathedral
With a view of Her Majesty’s Prison
A police raid at Sunday night’s discotheque
Was it Van Mildert’s portrait
Which looked down on me
Or was it someone more revered
On the wall in the dining hall
A photograph, of a painting, in a catalogue
I sat on that bench, wearing earphones
A series of plaques
Make the piece named Monument
This was my escape to art as shelter
Another photographer, this one makes a film
To explore yoga, meditation, healing
I tell a friend, also a photographer
About this mindful body of works
To share in the shelter of these images
Another message; about rejection
Or is it about perseverance
Then the grateful words on non-avoidance
If I do not take a risk
Will I find the wonderment of shelter
May Day
Lying on the headland grass
I do have a photograph
When I wore a green and silver shirt
As an emblem for a lover seeking shelter
Who, earlier in the day
If truth be told
Had already
Found his accommodation
Though that photograph is not at hand
