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Amidst the paraphernalia of natal units – This is my home – but
High frequency sound waves, Oh for the day when
Disinfectant, hormone drips, “Like a roe” I too
Masked midwives resplendent in “Can bound o’er the mountains
their ghostly gear – By the sides of the deep rivers”
Amidst every clinical aid – Yelling to the resounding hills –
We were born. This is my
Home.
Bristol.
Regency city it stands, overlooking the Avon –
Smashed by the Hun
Sending Dornier death by the tonne.
We were born there
Ere the moon had risen on the seventh day
Away from the Julian din,
Remote and peaceful
In seventy-nine.
More peaceful even than the Meads,
Over to the Veddw – sheltering
’Neath the beech and fir –
There real solitude to be found.
Here I shall stay.

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