A poem in the voice of John Bradburne
Lead me, for I am a coin-flipping, song-
singing wanderer and I glimpse you
everywhere as I walk this dawn-lit road.
You are the ruts of water flashing silver,
the fluttering lime reeds stooping
to an on–coming spirit-blown breeze.
You are the buoyant, morning sea-light
surging across Seaton marshes, a liquid
light rolling to piney mountain shoulders.
You are the arc, the horizon’s back, the
swerve inland, leading me to Buckfast
Abby, down a road of tangle, moss, and shadow.
And now you are slopes, bushes, outcrops,
hawthorn, making me itch for Italy, Israel, and
only you, and the coin of my prayer, know where.
a willing wanderer. Steer my restless
bones, direct me till I’m home.
Maria Apichella, 2021