Hi Arthur,
While I enjoyed the read on this one I felt more could be done with the
final stanza as it contrasts the descriptive element wonderfully. Perhaps
start with half the stanza and then finish with the other half, both in
italics. Just a thought. Fine work nevertheless.
bw
James
>From: Arthur Seeley <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: New Sub: Keighley
>Date: Thu, 18 Nov 2004 17:58:01 -0000
>
>Keighley
>
>
>
>A swift run of soft water
>
>out of the moors and gritstone hills,
>
>dammed and wiered,
>
>a market for woollen goods in the wider world -
>
>all that was needed to build a town -so they did.
>
>
>
>Cluttering the valley, sprawling up steep hills,
>
>a collage of styles, materials and aspirations-
>
>but it's the same with most places round here,
>
>the smell of decay, the matt of grimy disuse;
>
>silent mills and cold chimneys.
>
>
>
>The streams are Lethes now.
>
>Wraiths, thin as willow wands,
>
>pale as peeled sticks, wander the banks
>
>murder their childhoods, choke on memories.
>
>Can or needle, a little death suffices.
>
>
>
>They say that long ago they found a mad man,
>
>naked and knee-deep
>
>in the cold rapids of the Beck,
>
>singing vulgar songs to hymn tunes.
>
>They pulled him out, dried him,
>
>gave him clothes and a penny
>
>and put him on the road to Halifax,
>
>or so the story goes.
>
>
>
>nowadays he would not be noticed.
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