Tuesday, 3 September 2013

Sky Burial

(a poem for Gary Tweddle)

For two days helicopters buzz the cliffs and ridges like metallic lammergeiers

Aiding and abetting the grisly retrieval work of the police ground crew.

Our very own Broadchurch unfolding on the pretty streets of a tourist town

The decomposed deceased, missing for six weeks, putting paid to delight in an early spring.

And yet here comes another unwitting victim, map and Mars bar in hand, gob-smacked by the sun-drenched sandstone edifice

Pondering misadventure in the depths of the Jamison valley.

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