This is Where
written by: Julian Mann
This is where
I wished I was,
There,
I listen to High Violet.
Passing a scene of rural innocence
Where time di’n’t dwell,
But was down among the at long last
Wet leaves.
C’était un peu comme 1612.
Children, on horses,
One smiling
Back, on the saddle turn:
I stopped further down, still to
Hear their voices,
The horses alone.
The Chilterns,
Like a load of Silburys –
Don’t move!
I want to write you.
But I walked over a rainy plank
And got myself torn
In a chemical wood.
Time was on the stream bed.
Waters, shallow, gallop
After caught boughs.
Julian Mann
I’m from Buckinghamshire, England. I grew up with an appreciation of landscape, which for me poetry has always gone hand in hand with. My biggest inspiration in recent years is T.S. Eliot. I also love reading James Wright, and Alice Oswald.
Latest posts by Julian Mann (see all)
- The Day Woods/The Still Night - March 29, 2021
- This is Where - January 11, 2021
