O Christmas tree! Thy leaves are so unchanging...

Poet and artist Frieda Hughes writes an ode to her very own sculpted, steadfast branches: ones that remain green in summer’s clime – and through the snows of winter-time...

Not only green when summer’s here... but also when it’s cold and drear (Frieda Hughes)

The town centre wooden seat had a downhill view of shopping throngs

Stamping the chilled precinct slabs towards me, beneath an afternoon sun

That bleached clouds to a watery consistency. Drinking latte