Spud

Pup

Rachael's
Forest

Pete
Paddock
Basher

CBD

More
than
Gold

My Dog

Chips

GBH

A Horse
Called Elvis

Two Summers

Things hang around in your head for years,
like old photographs in an album. Or old books in a box.
Faces and feelings gather dust at the back of your mind
and you seem to forget about them. But you don't.
The album falls open one day - or you come upon
a box - and it's all there again, crisp and clear.

I'm going through things I don't use any more,
boxes of old toys and books. A photograph album.
There's a photo of me and a gangly foal only a few
weeks old, his eyes startled and red from the flash.

Who is he, this horse called Elvis?
The simple answer is that he's just a six year old
liver chestnut that I've grown up with.
But there is another answer, one that includes
Nick, Jaz, Mum and Dad.
And me.

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