How does a man on horseback make his way
in the dark, by a sea that shows no silver
and a sky empty of stars? I want to ask this
and other things of my great-great-aunt,
like how often does she leave the farm,
her animals, is it hard to single neeps?
Does she break from chores to eat peas
from the pod, will I find her by the well,
dreaming of other islands? Hers is a citadel
of crow and cockerel, the snipe’s boy-whistle,
the hare’s darting faith in springtime.
What I mean is, who does she talk to,
save mother, father, sisters, brothers,
how does she know Queen Victoria’s dead?
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From Magma 87, Islands
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