acknowledged
land
(coalburn,
northumberland.)
weep november cold tears,
make this ford unpassable.
hide us in the mizzle caul of ancient
fears,
protect us from this reiver dark.
fox cry, plangent grace,
the
wearing lines
of history on her face:
the ghost of static mines,
the broken ribs of rusted ships,
of shoulders laden with flacid chips.
inscribe a legend on your map,
no longer whippet & cloth cap
but totem statuary here & there,
a culture raped, the cupboard bare.
this north, this cold, acknowledged
land
where rule is cheap & underhand
where heritage is all the rage
& all our rage now heritage.
paul summers
