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Claire Everett - UK


Never under-estimate the relationship a man has with his car. I remember my Dad shedding a tear when he had to let Mary go. That dove-grey Morris Minor had been through some scrapes and my sisters and I had cheered her along many of the steep coastal roads of North Wales. My father never saw the like of Mary again and I never thought I would, either. Bricks and mortar don't make a home. Sails, masts and rigging don't make a ship. There's a vacant space outside the house today where a white Vauxhall combo van should be and the heart of this family is strangely heavy.

here and there
a passing place for memories
on the narrow road…
unwinding to the first breath
of mountain air

Today my husband said goodbye to an old friend. Clarice was part of his life before I knew him and I can safely say, had she not been, he and I would not be together now. She was a constant source of strength and was his companion on a road trip a few years ago, when he was working through some difficult times. The two of them visited many of the stone circles of England over a ten day period. It was a time of adventure, a spiritual journey. She asked little of him and was a good listener and shared his taste in loud rock music She provided a home for my husband when he was driving 400 miles a week to be with me and my children while we were saving up to get married and looking for a house near to where he worked.

deep winter
a cross on the map
to mark our longing
frost blown like spindrift
as the miles dissolve


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