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Underground

Gill Horitz

The old men,

gone so long

there was nothing to be seen

but the inside of the earth,

le no sign of life,
no sign of dirt.

Inside the clean earth
were pools I never tried to s r.

There is no purer thing

than uns rred water.

(Author’s Note: Found poem, from words by Eric Benfield. Benfield was a quarrier
and stone-worker at Worth Matravers, Dorset. Later, he became a sculptor and
writer. Earlier version published as “No Purer Thing” in Wri en in Stone
(ed. Paul Hyland), Purbeck Footprints, 2009)

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