Having at last arrived in a decade with a proper name, let’s see if the  powers that be can arrive at any version of political and environmental sanity,  although It’s already kicking off in a fairly non-positive way.

Here’s a hopeful poem for 2020.


Stop looking like a purse.  How could a purse

squeeze under the rickety door and sit,

full of satisfaction, in a man’s house?


You clamber towards me on your four corners –

right hand, left foot, left hand, right foot.


I love you for being a toad,

for crawling like a Japanese wrestler,

and for not being frightened.


I put you in my purse hand, not shutting it,

and set you down outside directly under

every star.


A jewel in your head?  Toad,

you’ve put one in mine,

a tiny radiance in a dark place.


Norman McCaig

from The Map and the Clock,  A Laureate’s Choice of the Poetry of Britain and Ireland., ed. Carol Ann Duffy and Gillian Clarke, Faber and Faber 2016.