This poem is taken from Stand 224, 17(4) December 2019 - February 2020.

Iain Twiddy Three Poems
Fenland Churches

I was brought up by cloudlight. Swirls rich as cobwebs
scoured the dark chrome of crescented soil
and bogged November hedgerows, hugging their roots.
And always the wind, billowing, bullying you east,
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