Poem of the North

Fifty years of the Northern Poetry Library

From Canto 2


Some days nothing to see but mist
through buckthorn and goat willow
still the river’s there
migration route of geese and fish
traffic of gods and men
wave after wave to the sea where all roads lead
and the Unit of Tigris Boatmen weave
along the estuary

keeping peace where the Wall runs out
a line held

at the frayed edge of the world.

View poem in Canto