OAK GROVE
I have had to spend some time in hospital and my mind wanders to the outdoors. This is one of my favourite trees, I will visit as soon as I am able. As with the NHS, I am grateful for the care of the Spanish public health system, also under pressure of cuts and privatisation. We must never take public health care for granted. It is there at our hour of need. This short poem wrote itself. OAK GROVE Scramble over terraces pocked with ash stone plucked from terracotta by knarled, ancient hands, mossed with sage velvet, wrinkled in lichen etched chamomile gold. Scratched by wild bramble, barbs claiming denim, entrapping ankles, spiked wire wool bundles guarding tumbled walls, protecting the entrance to the Grove within. Pass opened boundary to stand, still, in silence, seek assent to proceed. Honcho Oak beckons me, crunch leaf and acorn, lay hand on cragged trunk, lean, nurtured, at Oak’s feet. © 20...