By: ailsaandlisa

Nov 28 2014


Category: poem


Focal Length:19.5mm
Shutter:1/0 sec

It’s always half a season colder
here than in the town
so now at autumn’s end
it’s bloody freezing;

we don’t stand still too long
in case our blooded warmth
is blown from us until we too
are dry and stone.

But we have learned to love
the winds that find each other here
from sea and plain to the western side,
from peaks and moors to the east;

we come here to escape
the fug of ourselves, to walk
in unregulated air, and when
we return to the world below

we carry the wind
as a layer on our skin,
insulated with wildness
against our weeks of carpeted days.


The eleventh poem by Ailsa Holland as Tegg’s Nose Poet in Residence for 2014. Photo by Ailsa too.


2 comments on “November”

  1. Really like this, Ailsa. It has a strength and a music in the sounds. And a real sense of place. Think my skin knows the winds too. Thank you.

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