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Having been immersed in memoir writing for many months, I decided to write a small poem every day for a year to keep my poetic hand in. I've posted them to Instagram and facebook as written – where, to my amazement, people love them – but on this blog they are sometimes subject to later rewriting.
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Saturday 22 July 2023

Both my mother and my husband ...


Both my mother and my husband Andrew died at 83. It made me a little superstitious about surviving this age, but I’ve now outlived them both by some months – and I’m not yet tired of life, as I think they both were at the end, their bodies having become incapacitated. 


I renew good resolutions about more exercise, about getting all my books written, and getting the books of others read. (I have to live long enough for Diana Gabaldon to finish writing her Outlander series. They are lengthy books, rich in detail, products of much research; she can’t do them fast.) 


in old age

I do everything slower 

but time speeds up


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