Bliss
If there is bliss
Perhaps we knew it then
The length of
One spring afternoon.
I still see you
Naked against smooth rock,
Still marvel at
The taut economy of
Your body, at
The waterfall, wide-eyed
Curiosity of the deer; the
Nameless shades of
Loch and ben.
I still feel exactly
How it was to
Come down again -
Seven o’clock, sun
And stillness. Wood
Smoke rising, vertically.
Awaiting us, dinner:
Two grinning plaice
Fresh from the fleet.
Page(s) 18
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- Lamport Court
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- North, The
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- Orbis
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- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
- Poetry Cornwall
- Poetry London
- Poetry London (1951)
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- Poetry Salzburg Review
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- Private Tutor
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- Reach Poetry
- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
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- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
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- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The