The trouble with getting older is that sometimes we don’t get enough time. Before the pandemic, Rosemary McLeish came to read at some events I ran in Whitstable on the north Kent coast and, like everyone else, I fell under the spell of the rich embroidery of her language, her humour and fearless truth. We felt like two retired warhorses who’d wound up in the same corner of the field – we knew we had scars in common without having to say – and I wish we’d had more time to be friends. Rosie contracted cancer and died not long ago and from this Kent coast to Glasgow and beyond, Rosie and her poetry are hugely missed. Her husband Richard reads Rosie’s work on her behalf wherever he can and has organised an event at the Faversham Fringe on Friday 28 October, 8.30 – 9.30pm, in the Sidney Room in the Alexander Centre. I am deeply honoured to be included alongside Maggie Harris and Rosie’s publisher, himself a poet, Barry Fentiman Hall.