Reading & Writing Poetry
February 15th. Stones.You stop in the street,take off your shoe,remove the small offenderthat had slipped in slyly,caused such discomfort.As a child, you ran across the beach,holding your sister’s hand,soles hardened,impervious to the hard pebblesbeneath them.Later, on that same beach,with practised skill, you searchfor flat ones, make them skimacross the water, in contest,counting as they skip lightly.You place your home-made jamon the table, feel impelled to warn‘look out for stones,it’s difficult to spot them all.’The children, playing ‘Tinker, Tailor’place them on the edge of plates,the more you’ve left the better they are pleased. Loose stone walls that level and landscapeour piece of ground remain a tributeto his many skills, each heavy piece dugfrom the ragstone seam running deepacross the garden. A Memorial to him.
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