Tag Archives: Holt

Waterland: Memories Dissolve

A bridge that divides. Border country, and in my mind I’m so close to the edge. But fly-strewn water fills my mouth, and drowns all possible words. Cold pellets of rain beating a tattoo on the gore-tex fabric of my … Continue reading

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Bring Me My Bow

  Pilgrim paths, green roads, drove roads, corpse roads, trods, leys, dykes, drongs, snarns, snickets – say the names of paths out loud and they become a poem or rite – holloways, bostles, shutes, driftways, lichways, ridings, halterpaths, cartways, carneys, … Continue reading

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