I've been off the blog for a wee while, initially because I was on holiday for a week and was relatively disciplined about not going near my computer, and subsequently because I have been flat out trying to catch up with all of the stuff that came in during my brief absence... I am nowhere near caught up, but I thought I would just take a break and post a piece that I scribbled on actual paper during my break in the Mournes last week. It is based on the story of Watertown and the building of the Silent Valley Reservoir.
Footings in the foothills
Of aeons-old mountains;
Faint traces of endeavour
in this silenced valley.
Even the electronic echo
of a long gone throng
peopling cinema and school
fails to transmit.
Myriad birds twitter
in engulfing gorse and fern
where voices once struggled
to be be heard over
steam shovel and train,
and where electric light first shone
on long erased street.
Lives lost memorialised
in mourning granite and marble,
whilst thousands more
moved on uncelebrated.
Yet it was their toil
which quenched the drouth
of the distant thirsty city
at the mouth of the sandy river.
So raise a glass to Watertown.
Selah
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