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Vist Ewan's Profile


How they got up here,
These splintered bones of slate and shale,
Giant’s teeth that long since shattered,
Has been lost beneath heathland
Buried by brambles.
An old man with a battered brow
Pegs his stick into the ground.
His back is buckled,
A rusted hinge that creaks
As broken bits of ancients
Clamour in his pack for attention.
The valley side aches with the weight of the wall,
He moves each slab with tortured fingers.
It has never been defied before,
Cut into squabbling pieces.
Now it’s moulded by the power of a fragile hand,
A man-mass of flesh and blood
That stoops to ground for safety
As a behemoth rages beneath.


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