About this space

This space exists because writing became a way to stay present.

Not to explain life, but to remain inside it.

To mark time, breath, and the ordinary moments that continue, even when everything else feels uncertain.

Black and white photograph of a row of tall poplars on a frosty field, low sun shining through and long shadows.
Close-up black and white photograph of a frost-covered seed head, ice crystals spreading outward like a star.

Why this space exists

I didn’t begin writing poetry with the intention of sharing it publicly.

It began quietly, during a period when life slowed down, narrowed, and asked different questions.

During illness and treatment, time changed its shape. Waiting became a daily practice. Attention sharpened.

Small things grew louder. Writing became a way to notice what was still here.

A way to stay with the ordinary.

A way to breathe through uncertainty, rather than explain it away.

Black and white photograph of printed poem pages laid out in a grid on a patterned rug.
Black and white photograph of a hospital treatment ward with IV drip stands under bright ceiling lights.
Black and white photograph of a waterfall seen from behind, falling past a dark cave mouth toward open sky.

What these poems hold

These poems are not statements or conclusions.

They don’t offer answers, resolutions, or comfort on demand. They sit with moments as they are.

With waiting. With humour. With fatigue. With quiet joy, and the stubborn reasons people keep going.

Some are brief. Some unfold slowly. Each is given its own space.

About the poet

D. Star is a Liverpool-based poet.

This work was written during a period of cancer treatment and recovery.

The poems collected here are part of that time, but they are not only about illness. They are about being here.

Black and white photograph of a man in a hat walking past a Georgian terrace with two arched doorways.

An invitation

You’re welcome to read slowly.

To stay awhile.

To take what resonates, and leave the rest.