Words Along the Way:
Poems from the Blackbird Gate
A poem often begins with something small: a stranger’s kindness, a bird with an opinion, the sound of water against stone. Here I gather poems from journeys and ordinary days alike—moments I wanted to linger in, questions I couldn’t quite put down, and little pieces of the world worth carrying home.
Bryn Myrddin
Mary Stewart gave me a boy
misunderstood, alone,
who rode his pony up a hill and found a cave.