Grief and healing in poetry and short stories.

The Pollen Pages‘ is part of of a much larger body of work that has evolved since my father’s passing around Winter solstice in 2015. He was killed by a hit and run driver.


The soul through the seasons

If grief had to be a season, in the early days it would surely be Winter: a dark time that can bring numbness if it gets cold enough.

The lack of light here in the northern hemisphere can mean low mood and depleted energy (I’ve been there), yet those symptoms seem minor to me now when I compare them to the relentless throbbing of bereavement in my chest, which lasted for a year and a half before it started to feel less intense.

Grief has no time limit: it is unique to everyone and it never ends, it just changes form. That is the reality of love: to feel it means that we must also suffer the heartache of loss.

After losing dad the symbolism of the junctures of Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter as they relate to the human condition took on a deeper meaning for me in the following years.


This collection also includes some of my eco poetry and travel writing: who would want to read a collection that was about sorrow and nothing else? Not me.

As for the desing of my chapbook, do you see that little honeybee on the cover? He inspired me to get back to writing poetry!

I took his photo one day when he landed on a page of some boring academic text that I was reading. He stayed there for what felt like ages. Mesmerized by his translucent wings and delicate, powerful presence, I took his photo. 🐝


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