This oak tree is over 400 years old. It was growing, just 20 metres from where I write my poems, during the lifetime of Shakespeare and before Milton or Marvell was born.
	In the distance looms the Massif de l ’Esterel, which has watched over the littoral of Provence for over 300 million years.
	Antiquity inspires us to find a reason for our brief lives. Poetry contributes to the endless search for answers, recording our youth, our loves, our hopes, our fears, our disappointments and finally our pain and ultimate frailty.