Stone Tide


Published in Stone Tide Anthology, 2012

Facing up to squint a peer at the underlay of day,

smooth faced, twisting round, a pair of dancing stones




in my hand, now wedging, working, placing down.

You walked away from yourself,




spent many years far from here,

you changed in order to fit in, had to, I suppose.




I once made a spurtle for my love.




And I remember the Glen like a flicker of light,

in the hake and rake of long, dark, end-stone days,


up up


These murky mornings ground down

like cracked peppercorns, like this heartening stone




beautifully broken and somewhat scattered,

until there now, safe inside these dry-dyked walls,




The sealed voice of hands and sound,

a stone tide flowing up along, once more.


Shup, Sup, Skup, Vlup, Vup: Imperfect Clups


Clup: The sound when stone fits perfectly into place


 Posted by at 3:08 pm

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