Stuart Rawlinson #55 - Coffin Road

Carved along
Banks of yew
Roots, winding and meandering
Anti-Roman, as though time
Must be taken to
Skirt along memories, to
Tell cattle-bone tales
Caught and concentrated
In the moonlit ghyll
We mirror the remaining
Sheep, clinging to the fell
Across the valley
              Our hands are empty
              Our feet wrapped in leather
Creaking and stretching
Towards cemetery rights