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Rowing | Doubtful Dwindle
https://davidwindleblog.wordpress.com/2013/01/13/rowing
Trying to find balance on the hire wire of uncertainty. The Immortals →. Posted by David Windle. He had been rowing for as long as he could remember. The river flowed with him,. Steady to his left, steady to his right. Just out of reach; he never. Strayed from the mid of the stream. On each regular stroke. The blades of his oars. Nipped through the bright. Followed by their body of wood. With sufficient power he heaved,. Tucking his hands to hips. And extending his legs, sending. Imbued with the power.
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The Immortals | Doubtful Dwindle
https://davidwindleblog.wordpress.com/2014/09/19/the-immortals
Trying to find balance on the hire wire of uncertainty. Posted by David Windle. River you flow on. River with your crown of reeds. Tough and tender in the wind. Slanting like the arrows of a hunter. Bent towards where the open mouth. River you flow on. Thick and dark, sometimes. Coiled mud and broken sun. Then re-swirl like smoke and snakes. And avenues of trees and long lost laughter. River you flow on. Carrying your rafts of leaf fall. And broken weed and slender fish. And frogspawn and sea fruit.
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Porpoise | Doubtful Dwindle
https://davidwindleblog.wordpress.com/2013/01/07/porpoise
Trying to find balance on the hire wire of uncertainty. Summer Fragment →. Posted by David Windle. This morning I pulled a porpoise from the sea:. Without thinking I reached in,. With my small hands. And laid it on the pier. The porpoise looked me in the eye. Without suggestion or idea. What could it tell me of gravity. And the way water warms. And cools and the pleasure. Of spinning through the ocean. Without fear of falling? What could it tell me of depth. And the power of the currents. You are comment...
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Words | Doubtful Dwindle
https://davidwindleblog.wordpress.com/2013/01/08/words
Trying to find balance on the hire wire of uncertainty. Posted by David Windle. Lightly schism slice cord. Petrol burn blight clap. Lift life low lung. Call coin still pang. Day glow furrow fall. Bear quote loam plate. Collagen column only sole. Tired puzzled sent gone. Open pick case slate. Forgo cleft orange dial. Market caustic proven dossier. Dent vent caller primp. Curt vital nocturne desk. Sandal cover chalk Yggdrasil. Tout holler govern dilute. Anger distaff font baffle. Toe nape ball heart. David...
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Summer Fragment | Doubtful Dwindle
https://davidwindleblog.wordpress.com/2013/01/07/summer-fragment
Trying to find balance on the hire wire of uncertainty. Indian Bricks →. Posted by David Windle. Closing in on itself. Like a burning leaf. Friendships fade into fabric impressions. And the deeper truths form furrows. There is love but uncertainty too:. Time dilates, flattening out,. Reshaping the heart like an object. And silently replaying forgotten storms,. The distant and familiar enfold. So briefly we found ourselves. Of midges a blitzkrieg of insects. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Indian Bricks →.
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Harp | Doubtful Dwindle
https://davidwindleblog.wordpress.com/2013/01/07/harp
Trying to find balance on the hire wire of uncertainty. Monkey’s got Your Voice. Posted by David Windle. Your room is different when you’re not there:. The shoes you didn’t choose to wear. Lie lifeless on the floor,. The clothes flung over the short bedposts. Are crumpled frozen mid forget, lapping. At the unmade sea of your quilt,. Still hollowed by the shape. Your hurried body this morning left. The half open drawers, tilting. On a balance, the wardrobe. Door ajar, still waiting for your hand. Error: T...
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Indian Bricks | Doubtful Dwindle
https://davidwindleblog.wordpress.com/2013/01/07/indian-bricks
Trying to find balance on the hire wire of uncertainty. Posted by David Windle. The bricks lie in lines. The colour of the sun. By the margin of the road,. At once at rest and waiting. Like untouchables for something. To arrive and set them free;. More bricks in trucks and trailers. Are delivered by the day. And stacked against the rest. In leaning piles of three:. Gathered, sitting flat,. Sometimes some are taken. And layered into walls. While others lie unlifted. David Windle January 2012. David Windle...
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4th Jan 2013 poem | Doubtful Dwindle
https://davidwindleblog.wordpress.com/2013/01/07/4th-jan-2013
Trying to find balance on the hire wire of uncertainty. Mark Rylance on the state of the nation. Monkey’s got Your Voice →. 4th Jan 2013 poem. Posted by David Windle. A scattering of pens. Light from a bulb hung from the ceiling. The window to the right. The road and the green. Grey trees beneath darkening sky. The single ring of a bicycle bell. And clatter of something. The deep thud of a ball being kicked. Fingers, hands at rest on the keyboard. A question mark imagined. Leave a Reply Cancel reply.
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Mark Rylance on the state of the nation | Doubtful Dwindle
https://davidwindleblog.wordpress.com/2012/10/28/mark-rylance-on-the-state-of-the-nation
Trying to find balance on the hire wire of uncertainty. The Boy and the Hill. 4th Jan 2013 poem →. Mark Rylance on the state of the nation. Posted by David Windle. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out. The Boy and the Hill. Sorry...
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Monkey’s got Your Voice | Doubtful Dwindle
https://davidwindleblog.wordpress.com/2013/01/07/monkeys-got-your-voice
Trying to find balance on the hire wire of uncertainty. 4th Jan 2013 poem. Monkey’s got Your Voice. Posted by David Windle. Monkey’s got Your Voice (on your survival from throat cancer). I sat there on your pillow. As the illness thinned your voice;. In my red punching gloves and trunks. Beside your half closed eyes. I kept time and held still. With the strain, willing you. To reappear on the surface. Of your skin, not calm not grey,. But still and shining. I sit here on the sill now,. 4th Jan 2013 poem.
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