AUGUST 2017 : A NEW CONTRIBUTION FROM ANNE HAYHOE
JULY 2017: TWO CONTRIBUTIONS FROM ANNE HAYHOE
a psychogeography of Malmesbury
I see, from discourse (an ordinary exchange)
today’s unknown girls
on a blue-black summer evening
walking alongside the library (closed)
it’s blinds shut up night-tight
in this ancient hilltop town.
And hear their high voices
not in sentences, nor even words
but girlish giggles
that roll and sweep ahead
sucking them across the tarmac-black car park
to the dark glint of metal railings
that crown the Town wall
and it’s drystone drop to Tom Rich’s meadow.
Leaving their bounded lives
the timetables, exams, deadlines, dates
how easily they climb over
their feet finding a familiar pattern
into the true black, Mars-black nothingness
into the footsteps of the nuns
whom history recalls
treading a daily path under the wall.
Where do they go?
In the brightness of day
this librarian stands at those same arrow-head railings
seduced by the sweeping view
dazzled by the rich green grasses
that roll down the escarpment
and flow into a much-eyed landscape.
I am scanning for evidence
the silvery snail-trails
that mark the crossing of boundaries.
I long to spy a snagged black thread,
a friendship bracelet, some finger-rounded beads
a talisman of their age.
But all I see
the uncropped grass
a year’s lengthening
now flattened in places.
The treads of their passing
must be sufficient
to take me into the black.
copyright Anne Hayhoe
8th September 2015