epicormicgrowth began as a response to the Black Saturday fires – as therapeutic writing. I lost my home, possessions, pets, community and my identity. Poetry came as a delightful surprise on the pathway I walk towards recovery. I set out to create a small book of memories for my children. Instead, I found poetry. Or perhaps poetry sent a wildfire to chase me to its arms. Initially writing was an outpouring of narrative and emotion – experience made concrete on paper. Now I am learning some of the craft of poetry, investigating life through words. Allowing myself to play.

Epicormic growth is the new shoots thrust out by trees burnt by inferno. It is the tree’s desperate attempt to remain alive – for without leaves for photosynthesis the tree will assuredly die. After catastrophe, we must grow. To remain static is to invite death. In the time following 7th February 2009 my own growth has been unparalleled – a brief perusal of this blog will confirm that.

Come, walk the poetic path with me.

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