Tinwald to Torthorwald (April 2021.)
I’m walking along the High Road
between Tinwald and Torthorwald,
from the “meeting place”, to “Thorold’s Hill”,
as the Norse and Saxon named them.
How many souls have passed this way?,
from field to field, from mound to motte,
have looked out over the Lochar Moss,
to the Sulwath and the Hill of Crows.
These days, the miles pass easy,
rolling on between the hedgerows.
This road is a space between, a respite,
a place to breath and notice,
that the nests are high this year
and the buds have begun to break,
how everything unfolds as usual,
as if nothing...had ever happened.
Sulwath = Solway
Hill of Crows = Criffel
Derek Ross
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I LOVE this poem! It’s one that definitely needs to be read aloud by the poet.
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