Peter Milner

Oh-oh-oh . . .


You know, seen from up here

the planet spinning fast or slow

depending on your measure

sun tilted glance

and a wobble at the poles


And down there, today, 

feet on ground

saw flat bottomed clouds

a great armada

shaded and lit up, illuminated

folded grey shadow

sailing over



Below, the year's list

the lengthening of days

this piling up of green

the pouring out 

the billowing of summer

and the going over

flower fruit and seed

in all this

what we have or owe

it hardly matters

We have our time in the garden

and in the shadows of the wood

with bird throng

and things you cannot name

made of subtle light

evening comes 

then night

always turning . . .

one into another

but this sadness endures

and I don’t know what to do

it won’t be banished by words

but rather seems to grow


Oh-oh-oh . . .

This is my lament

for you, he who had good heart

in which we all could live

somehow, the best of us on show

You are much missed

I wanted you to know


This poem is a lament for Glenn Carmichael, who died unexpectedly in April 2020 after a short illness. He is mourned by many, not least those who attended his writing courses, where everyone felt valued and the craft of story-making was nurtured.

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