© Racheal Da Silva Burton
Packhorse
Bring on the bit and curb, the saddle, the saddlebag; broad animal, steady it goes for its own name being whispered in its ear; bring on the blankets, the slumped pack, lovingly; weight on weight, what matters is this whole life being dedicated, haunch and hoof and back; bring on the tiny passenger, the load-bags filled with riot; oh mid-life’s beast, it stamps, up the hill of the soul, down the thrilled valley to the stream.
The Disembarked
It’s midnight and I’m dismantling a railway, bend by bend, straight by straight. The passengers who shuttled all throughout the provinces of imagined lavender and imagined wheat, must find a place to settle for the night, and don’t I have a certain sympathy with those come blinking from the carriages with nowhere to lay out – except this bed beneath the sliding blue stars of the evening near the warm, creaking sleepers of the heart.
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[…] Poetry in Aldeburgh. This free event – also featuring fellow Wild Court contributors Niall Campbell, Helen Calcutt and Will Stone – will take place on Friday 8th November at 3.30pm in the Peter […]