Lucky Dip Number 17
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The Valley*
Trees slant in the wind Precarious equilibrium. The water serrates. Round the lake mountains press Cathedral majestic. Such wildness worships. Across the gorge I see a figure, A distant stranger. My heart spreads out to call him brother. The valley voids at my pretension. He turns My heart heavy on his hand Unwelcome burden. When voices winnow in the wind** Can hearts do better? The trees are a gnarled cross Straining to the valley. This is the violence of the dying Who are dead. |
* A symbol of the division in Northern Ireland
** Only the chaff blows across |