Friday, 16 July 2010


Ask a little one about crossing a bridge

(I mean the smallest Billy Goat Gruff),

knowing a Troll’s gonna cut up rough;

or Goldilocks - ask her all about porridge.

Riding Hood’s not afeard of a big bad wolf;

neither three pigs tiling a roof

and Jack pivots on a hero’s bones

when he burgles a Giant’s home.

Isn’t magic a form of belief

that there’s land beyond swirling water,

corporeal trust, any release

of the cladding of homestead, a totter

onto one stone - and hope for surprise:

that the next one, and the next one, will rise?

No comments:

Post a Comment