Soar-ing deep, high and demanding

In one of his 43 poems – yes, 43 – about the life of a river, Ted Hughes observes: The winter floods have ruined her. She squats between draggled banks, fingering her rags     and rubbish.” And so it is as the flood waters drop on a river leaving debris hanging from overhanging branches andContinue reading “Soar-ing deep, high and demanding”