I found out a week after he died, a brief foray onto Facebook where someone had posted about his last words to his wife. I felt sad and tried to remember as many of his words as I could. The wonder of when they fall into place with new meanings.
A Door into the Dark was the first book of his I got hold of. I was 14 and bought it with a Christmas present book token from a book shop located by the market in the centre of Leicester (it’s not there now, it closed before the 1980’s were out, I think). Back then, bookshops seemed to have more poetry in them, but back then, summers seemed longer too so you can’t be sure. This book was full of incredible imagery and discovery, for me, that I still feel when I read them now even though my circumstances are so much different than they were then. Such is the power of words and their pull on the memory.
“All I know is a door into the dark.”