So, it has been a while.

I return to write here today, because yesterday a woman in a white coat told me I must make the space to write. She told me this with the conviction of a true medic; and the zeal of a true poet.

She is The Emergency Poet, and she operates out of an ambulance.

I was on duty yesterday: working at my Cathedral in Guildford, manning the kiddies crafts and taking photos for publicity.

My boss and I strolled out of the great marquee – they call it a canvas cathedral- onto the lawn to watch the early visitors to the Cathedral Summer Fair.  The air was soft, moist English air which caresses the skin, and though there was the odd spot of rain it was a benign sort of day, really.

Our eyes surveyed the scene, panning round to the large ambulance parked to…