from ‘Souvenir’ (The Voice Project, Holkham Hall 2014)

Some memories are honed and barbed
and finished to a crystal point to catch
a smell of grass, a synonym of love.
Others come like mice to kitchens,
unlatching bones to slip inside.
Of course you cannot let them stay,
tiptoeing on those pink and padded feet,
or sitting back on naked tails
to palm the fur around their ears,
but you’ll never stop them coming back
to this warmth and these crumby scraps.