Mystery, poetry written by Julian Mann at
Zosia Korcz



written by: Julian Mann



At lock 212 there are arms, through which
The house from 1912
Is always seen. I sit on an arm
Of the canal, rocking myself slightly.
And I start a motion which, minutes later,
The blue hills having forgotten, the storm in
the trees,
Nudges me to attention.

There is a blackbird here
With a motif, one hundred years old;

Here they have kept the grass
Trim, with delicately dropped straws.



In my twenties, my teens,
The hedges and fields
I had left naive:
Only now have I begun

To love
The cold things of the house –
And she waits, in a kind of domestic bliss.

While I, having found,
I touch beauty in its purest form,
At this empty station of the canal.

I am keeping forward of the cill,
I am coming a long way back to
this place,
And a long way
To myself.

Julian Mann

Julian Mann

31, from Buckinghamshire, England. Edits Jumper Poets Press - a poetry journal on Instagram.
Julian Mann

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