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Vivienne Tregenza
last update:
17 Mar23
On the cliff edge
in a white-washed cottage
clinging to the ancient rock
she felt years spread under her feet;
strata of muted colours
threaded here and there
with ribbons of gold.
She knew that she would live
precariously, weaving
her stories into song;
Tregeseal, Cape Cornwall, Lamorna
faded tapestries of childhood
made bright again.
Now the roof of the cottage
is ablaze with sunlight
and from a bedroom window
you would see the fog lifting,
a woman walking in the valley,
and on the sea’s horizon
the delicate embroidery
of distant islands.