four departments.

April 17, 2008

ink,
words, impressions, memories
on paper.
memories of a forgotten coast
lost to time, to leathery history.
my wild country who speaks in strange tongues.

the end of the earth, indeed.

my united kingdom,
well embraced by an eternal republic,
divided and broken, but still proud.
a symbol – always –
of the will of men
and of freedom.

each school teacher struck down
each general decree
each rugged crag and
each gentle valley
each soft-skinned lass and her dark-breasted knight
each smooth silver bullet rushing quietly o’er the plain
each salt flat, each cannery, each handful of buckwheat and barley

calls me back to you.

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