Lynn Davidson



What the Repetitions of Poetry Might Help Us Remember about Home, Belonging and the Self

It’s mid January in Edinburgh. Patches of yesterday’s snow make florescent patterns on the future flowerbeds of the new old folks home across the road. It’s a home specifically for people with dementia. From the living room I can see that all of the rooms are, as yet, empty, but at night the lights are on and the lit stairwell and empty rooms have a waiting quality about them. The place actually looks quite nice.

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The Underground Loop

The train is down. We are waiting at its heaving side for the fresh train to come. The train that will come. We grow transparent with the rain we brought down on us. Out of darkness and into the Southern …

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