Killing time in the precinct, I find a copy of one of my early volumes in a dump-bin on the pavement outside the charity shop. The price is 10p. It is a signed copy. Under the signature, in my own handwriting, are the words, "To mum and dad".

The Huddersfield that I like best is a large town with a big heart and an open mind.

I have to make myself write, sometimes. In the space between poems, you somehow forget how to do it, where to begin. It was good to be task - based for a while. I just came downstairs each day, picked the one I was going to do that day, and wrote.

In all the poems I've written I've not really engaged in politics, and when I've found myself moving in that direction I've always stopped myself.

Somebody will be able to crack ebook files in the same way that people cracked music files a decade ago. An author could have worked for three years on his book, have someone buy it for their Kindle for £6.99 and then see it shared with everyone in the world for free.

And wonder, dread and war have lingered in that land where loss and love in turn have held the upper hand.

We still need a voice that thinks before it speaks.