Sunday, 1 June 2025

hillside

 hillside


stephen kingset fell off the rocks

above the river where the boy’s body was found

floating down like a log


stephen kingset climbed back up

he came home for beans on toast

looked like he had never eaten before

mum said 

the drowned boy’s mum was wailing

soundlessly 

we were too far away on the warm smooth rocks

above the abandoned gold mine 

with the locked doors


a piton someone said it was

phaw we spat out

it’s a german bullet lodged in the rock

for there were bomb craters full of water 

up on the marsh up on the hill

full of weeds and dragonfly larvae


it was always windy on kilvey hill 

with lizards warming in the black heather

that turned its back on the view over the bay

it was not their day for

the owl’s talons flew a slow broad circle

dragging the shadow of a doubt 

about the boys

who swore it was a kestrel


then they ran arms outstretched like spitfires 

in the comics that awaited them 

in the armchair by the fireside


when they descended 

the larks ascended 

it was that sort of a hill

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