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July 15, 2017

…through generous fields of flax, their overlapping

flowers a gentle gentian; tangled mats

of chamomile among the wheat; to trapped-

in, hedged-in meadows, hemmed by sunken tracks

and spreading oaks, with you – so closer to

the past than I – I felt the touch of those

whose baulks of timber dragged these lanes, who knew

the cloying scent of mayweed, clover, drove

the horses pastured in these intimate

enclaves to till and sow. I wondered how

this path we trod began, saw William on

his horse lean forward to negotiate

his needs: their right to walk and rent and plough

the land he’d won, with those he’d won it from.


(Shortlisted and commended in the Ealing Magna Carta competition, 2015) 


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