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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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