Poem for Saturday

Exmoor
By Amy Clampitt

Lost aboard the roll of Kodac-
olor that was to have super-
seded all need to remember
Somerset were: a large flock

of winter-bedcover-thick-
pelted sheep up on the moor;
a stile, a church spire,
and an excess, at Porlock,

of tenderly barbarous antique
thatch in tandem with flower-
beds, relentlessly pictur-
esque, along every sidewalk;

a millwheel; and a millbrook
running down brown as beer.
Exempt from the disaster.
however, as either too quick

or too subtle to put on rec-
ord, were these: the flutter
of, beside the brown water,
with a butterfly-like flick

of fan-wings, a bright black-
and-yellow wagtail; at Dulver-
ton on the moor, the flavor
of the hot toasted teacake

drowning in melted butter
we had along with a bus-tour-
load of old people; the driver

's way of smothering every r
in the wool of a West Countr-
y diphthong, and as a Somer-

set man, the warmth he had for
the high, wild, heather-
dank wold he drove us over.

--------

We're in Pennsylvania and I'm posting tonight in case I can't get on in the morning when we're going to the farmer's market early. I read The Fortune of War the whole way up in the van after discovering that the Toyota's lights are designed so that the passenger can read without the glare distracting the driver; this makes me ecstatic as my book light cannot compete. The scene where Jack sews Stephen's coat, and the one where Stephen thinks about how much he loves to let Jack's voice flow over him while he is trying to think, just make me so happy.

Gacked from :


Cosplay Costume!
You would be great dressed as Captain Kirk, Harry
Potter, Legolas or Kenshin. You are quite odd
indeed. But, I suppose this is just another
level of your geekdom.
Be sure to wait until you get back to the hotel
room to get some at a convention. ;p

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