Call of lone curlew
turn down beak
outspread wings
resting on air.
High above outcrop
Whinsill
north facing escarpment
scar of rock
atop the Wall.
A testimony to tenacity
building of forgotten men
frontier of a lost empire.
Flooded quarry water
dark cold hollow on solitary moors.
peter rodenby
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cawfields-quarry/
