In A Time Of Violence Poems

A collection of poems exploring "the unspoken." To paraphrase The Parcel: "There are dying arts and one of them is the way my mother used to make up a parcel. Paper first, mid-brown and coarse, then the scissors, not a glittering let-up, but a dour pair. Ball of twine, flame, sealing wax, melted and spread into a brittle terracotta medal. Names and places, crayon and fountain pen, town underlined once, country twice. It's ready for the post."