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Companion on White Edge           

Any audience is incidental               
- Ted Hughes               

moors are a place where               
earth & heavens merge               

vertigo-ground where far               
horizons can swirl ‘here’               

so ‘here’ is ‘there’               
and so ‘never’               

is arrived at               

without compass or guide               
stoop heather is brown cloud               

and cloud a low white vague               
swelling to smudge directions               

ours is a leaning stone       
also torqued so north       

south west & east have       
been ripped from their magnet       

and the cross of       
height-with-width is askew       

so our new companion of grit is       
two blocks twisted where       

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For This Ride

come out      

   ward hear

           heath

er on air      

step

          on g

      rounded c

loud let        

  soul rotate

      as hori

                zon

          walk sky

wards       

Read the poem
Read the poem