Friday, 12 December 2008

In Which I Receive a Nice Poem

I sent an electronic Yuletide card to all the nice people I know. Well, all right, I may have missed out a few through incompetence. But it's the thought that counts. And Kay Fletcher, writer and artist, sent me a nice poem! Well, actually a spooky poem, but that's the point. 

Vampires on the Moor

Scripted at this point surely

when the grouse explodes from the heather

the tall shadow of the standing stone

flicks from its dark cuff creeping fingers.


My spectacles pebbled with tiny

fish eye lenses I say ‘we’re lost,’

as on the flimsiest of walks leaflets

fangs of rain bite down.

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