Keddington Church Foot Bridge What’s behind fences, gates creaking open into other sides, properties chosen privacy over view. Just off the towpath, the Raven beerhouse and bit of land out back, long since private: cabin and chair look onto canal’s past thirsty workspace, diminutive drink left out. Blackbird goes blithe between gardens gathering, flies over roof to drink at rainwater-filled Deep Excavations - diggers on Eastfield Road WHERE TOWN MEETS COUNTRY - takes low flight back over frost- laid grass swathes and off down canal kink. Even in December you could never write the ground or the growing growings in it. Tilting Gate Foot Bridge, Riverhead From brambled banks of split concrete call through unseen traffic behind Woolpack, warehouse, mill. Ducks hold heads low, face east wind on rippling canal, outfall pipe spouts in. Stacked breeze blocks at the builders’ yard before sun-streaked factory facade U.K. picked out, bricks against dark, where goods were hoisted out of shuttered doors & windows miniature over the water. The old geezers head along the wharf past shades of granaries, kilns & bone mills into the Gas Lamp. Nettles weaken on the bank, leaves at stage from skeletal to new-fallen. Are you cold there?
Keddington Church Foot Bridge What’s behind fences, gates creaking open into other sides, properties chosen privacy over view. Just off the towpath, the Raven beerhouse and bit of land out back, long since private: cabin and chair look onto canal’s past thirsty workspace, diminutive drink left out. Blackbird goes blithe between gardens gathering, flies over roof to drink at rainwater-filled Deep Excavations - diggers on Eastfield Road WHERE TOWN MEETS COUNTRY - takes low flight back over frost- laid grass swathes and off down canal kink. Even in December you could never write the ground or the growing growings in it. Tilting Gate Foot Bridge, Riverhead From brambled banks of split concrete call through unseen traffic behind Woolpack, warehouse, mill. Ducks hold heads low, face east wind on rippling canal, outfall pipe spouts in. Stacked breeze blocks at the builders’ yard before sun-streaked factory facade U.K. picked out, bricks against dark, where goods were hoisted out of shuttered doors & windows miniature over the water. The old geezers head along the wharf past shades of granaries, kilns & bone mills into the Gas Lamp. Nettles weaken on the bank, leaves at stage from skeletal to new-fallen. Are you cold there?
Selected-Past-Winters-Sonnets-for-Ropewalk.docx