Thorpeness to Aldeburgh
Crepuscular walk through birch woods,
past the windmill and the house in the clouds.
Bracken ignited by the setting sun, and,
at the edge of a red field,
tractor ruts you could lose a shoe in.
The track is undecided between sand and mud;
where land runs out, I shift between beach and path.
The sky sucks up the last of the light,
and the sea is a great beast, quite calm for now,
its regular inhalations setting the pace
for my steps beneath the chewed fruit of the moon
which dodges the clouds.
Beneath streetlights, the houses are mostly blind,
but above them great juicy eyes of stars
stare at the winking satellites and planes.
Hannah Stone
Hannah Stone has published three volumes of poetry, and contributed to anthologies and collaborations and print and online journals. She convenes the poets/composers forum for Leeds Lieder festival, hosts monthly spoken events in Leeds, collaborates with two composers, runs creative workshops and takes an annual writing retreat on the Pembrokeshire coast.
Photo credit @pmason303 at http://www.unsplash.com
On an otherwise gloomy Sunday morning, reading this poem was a joy.
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A poem to really get your teeth into. Fantastic.
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