Today is the anniversary of the Boston Tea Party (16 December 1773).

We all know things are bigger and better in America, but can you imagine using 300 chests of leaves to make tea in a harbour? Must’ve been expecting a lot of guests!

Tepid is the winter sunshine that lights the granite and the marble.
Still the air, unstirred by December’s breeze.
Quiet is the grey scene, silent the inhabitants;
Only the distant cawing murder of crows suggests life.

Death stalks this bleak mid-winter scene,
But not new or recent death
For all here are long gone, putrefied.
Returned to their very essence.
Returned to the land.
The worms crawl in...

I am alone, standing in my reverie
Considering my private thoughts,
Sharing with no other the turmoil within.

I am alone.
Desperate and alone.