Gathering
Chapel Hill
Slow gear this homespun stretch of breath
Cross-laced the press of toes on the cattle way
Moss sprung propelled the limbs akin the
fernside swell which laps to the tip
of trig on Chapel Hill
Here the gathered
shift soft arrange
their risen shapes
perpendicular still
to the soft angles
on the solace hill
Each clappered footfall on the reverenced soil
A peel of pitch and lilt on tilted green
Each eye a kite between sky and hand
While we circled like steeples or flagstaffs
rooting on the chimming hill
If as oracle the tone of feather on beating bone
springs hope as wings and lifts the core connect
of those mentioned in this kindred plane
then this is how we felt our way by scent alone
soul saviour balm
at the tip of trig on Chapel Hill
Derek Elliott -


