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Jessica Sneddon: a poem


The people who catch the ear are

walking, in the white space of her journal, orbiting


from Cockermouth, Coniston, Keswick, Manchester

they trudge the line of the road

some with an ass, others alone. Followed

in time, by

Lang, Shaw, Massey, Hyne, Barn, Huddleston, Donelly, Barums, Davies, Robert, Roberts,

Watt, Watkins, King, McNeal and Brown

no trace found

of the workers' camp:

the quarry cascades on a car park,

its water kettled by wires

the people of the common: charcoal burners,

manager, blacksmith, clerk, miner, miner, labourer, miner, miner, storekeeper, hut keeper, labourer, blacksmith, labourer, labourer, labourer, engine fitter

silent after dynamite, erased

by trees that people the common

their Rock of Names

written deep in the vein,

growling with water

lured by gravity

through the submerged aqueduct

under our feet

Jessica Sneddon is a poet and recent Masters graduate who is fortunate enough to call Cumbria home. Her work has appeared in Tears in the Fence, Magma, Stand, and Ink, Sweat and Tears.


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