
Only the van
I’m just back from a rewarding morning making poems at Coldwells House, a care home near Hereford. Today there was a group of a dozen, quite a few of whom I’d met before, but not seen for three months. I took in copies of an Eric Ravilious print ‘Wiltshire landscape’ (1937). We all talked about the picture, and what it meant, and what everyone saw … Continue reading Only the van