What do you see in me, what questions rise
when the cave mouth is un-stoppered?
I am slathered on this accidental rock
like raw meat on a butcher’s block,
the soft sad-eyed bulk of me delineated
by a blackened fire stick.
What will you do when I fade-out,
when the rock-crust lets go its grip?
Don’t re-store me with tender bristles,
touching me here and there
until I have stepped into time,
a forgery in a gift shop.
Stuart McClure has been writing for several years, particularly inspired by Dartmoor and the South Devon Coast. He is a member of two writing groups: Moor Poets and Two River. They both provide stimulus and critical feedback.