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Some mes a horse craves

the rider in its own way.
Mary has no say.
This is not delinquency –

children have their way to be.
They’re my children,’ Mary laughs

when they leave. ‘You love them to go.’

Stone is not flesh

nor do you want it so.

(Author’s Note: Mary Spencer Watson, Sculptor, who lived at Dunshay Manor, Dor-
set – wri en a er talking to Mary about her work. First published in Gill Horitz’s
pamphlet, 'All the Different Darknesses’, Cinnamon Press, 2018)

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