Lynmouth
Lynmouth, Watersmeet,
the time the water pump
packed up in a cloud of steam.
We left the car and walked
down towards the gorge.
The rivers were in flood.
We were both so angry.
Watching two rivers meet,
we caught the rush, were silent,
kissed, didn’t want to talk.
This water worked:
the car was all words
water wanted to resist,
like tension and torque.
The RAC man came and went,
came back and began
to remanufacture flow.
We stood in that valley soaked
in whitenoise, in drenching mist,
trying to understand.
Andrew Nightingale is 31 and lives in Cornwall near the Lizard.
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