Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
You may argue you've suffered enough during the COVID lockdown without yours truly starting to subject you to a selection of the eighty or so poems I penned in 2017. Although, not exclusively relating to the old man, this prose written during the last few months of my father's life in 2017. A dreadful landscape... Continue Reading →
Since embarking on this literary voyage, I've written these tales of inanity in a multitude of establishments. Today's offering is being penned in, or just outside, my moribund dad's room in a West Yorkshire hospice. The circumambulating atmosphere a justapos of the distressing sight of witnessing a loved one's suffering in the last hours of... Continue Reading →