Kirkdale Hyena Cave Cave / Rock Shelter View all content for Kirkdale Hyena Cave

A poem by Herbert Read Kirkdale. I, Orm the son of Gamel Found these fractured stones Starting out of the fragrant thicket. The river bed was dry. The rooftreesnaked and bleached, Nettles in the nave and aisleways, On the alter an owls cast And a feather from a wild doves wing. There was peace in the valley: Far into the eastern sea The foe had gone, leaving death and ruin And a longing for a priest's solace. Fast the feather lay Like a sulky jewel in my head Till I knew it had fallen in a holy place. Therefore I raised these grey stones up again.

Posted by fitzcoraldo 25th March 2002ce

Comments (0)
You must be logged in to add a comment