Winter
I remember another winter when the snow also fell. I was far away from home. For a week, I lay every night with another man. There was no question of… Read more Winter →
The Skin of Trees
The tales of centuries written in the lines and bumps of bark. By comparison, humanity has barely learnt to speak yet. Damian Mark Whittle
Life Underfoot
Stop sometimes, just for a moment, and look down. Damian Mark Whittle
Climb
I cast you down and lay lines of iron above you. For your jealousy and impatience. Your writing of a story that would never be mine. Still you may find… Read more Climb →
Walking in the Woods
These woods have always been my friend. They held all my childhood dreams and fantasies. When the world wounded and terrified me and I retreated into closed places, the trees waited. When… Read more Walking in the Woods →
Entrance to Another World
Damian Mark Whuttle
They Found it in the Snow
They found it in the snow. A night would come when it would tell its tale. Each word whispered through a mouth without lips. Damian Mark Whittle
Winter Rises
Damian Mark Whittle
Strange and Lost Visions 