top of page
Indice
A poem by Lloyd
While wishing for the rain
Which had washed away
That unknown bridge,
A saline stream ran down my neck
Carl Wark and Higger Tor supplanted.
Our view at peak a flock of grazing sheep,
A lamb, waddling, had me wonder
If it would ever find the fence.
I realised then we may forever
Avoid cues for rams and ewes
When leaves auburn fall,
Soon swept away so that
Impure snow may settle
bottom of page