From Uley to Owlpen

Owlpen Tuesday (23)I’m working on a set of poems that have developed after a week spent in Uley and Owlpen.  I found well-worn tracks and holloways, the ruins of a medieval cloth industry built on wool, hills topped by Neolithic barrows, topped again by Iron Age hillforts, and once again by a smallpox isolation hospital, once again lost.  There’s still poverty.  There’s still wealth.  Here’s a faint flavour of place.

Owlpen Tuesday (22)

we stop for breath and the wood
breathes leaves
on the steeps
below Uley Bury

*

Owlpen Tuesday (20)

in the dark lane
you look both ways

it wends low in the land
& nights, the badgers
own this road

*

Owlpen Tuesday (13)

smallpox under
the sycamore avenue
on the islanded hill

such old, old trees

*

Owlpen Tuesday (15)

so many things
vanish
without trace

one is pulling up its roots,
has started walking

*

Owlpen Thursday (5)

this is how beech leaves
take the light down with them –
make use of water
to sink it into soil

*

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “From Uley to Owlpen

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: