Hare

‘First catch your hare…’those inevitable jokes about jugging,about the long slow cooking required,as I cradled him in that Laithwaite’s box,carried him home with wrap of bubbleand shredded paper for his bedding; some debate about full moon,about which night it fell...

A Photo for Grandpa

He’d snapped them all – his choice of verb, not mineQueen Mum, Princesses Margaret…and Anne, starsof chart and catwalk, the rich, the famousand the bad. Now here he was, winding down,in a modest studio close to us. The natural choice for our task.A happy...