In memory of Uncle John, who died last month in Wales.
 |
| RIP John Penri Hillman |
Uncle John’s Hands
Big enough to hold the
baby
In his palm, my uncle John
had
Shoulders like a giant
The safest place
Was the palm of his hand
He walked the Valleys in
seven-league boots
Leapt over mountains
He knew where black frogs
hide
And rabbits have tea
parties
When the tip at the
pithead slipped and
Covered the school,
With big hands he
shovelled all day
Holding little bodies in
the palm of his hand.
***************
From Postcards
Vaynor Churchyard, Merthyr Tydfyl
It was cold
all day, we were
leaves blown
among the graves and
John spat on
Crawshay’s stone ‘The Devil’s
Got a mate’ he
said. God Forgive Me said
the stone, but
its voice was lost in moss.
Though the
foundry tips are grassy now, still
The bitter
scent of iron’s in the air.
Red Wharf Bay, Anglesey
Beyond the
horseshoe of fields
Is another
world. I’ve written
letters in it,
watched tiny crabs
Swim to a cold
doom until the sun
Sank away. Now
the water rises,
And
everything’s washed free.
Trefusis Point, Cornwall
We’re sitting
on the dragon’s head, and
The sea is
bubbling with its breath -
I saw the
whole dragon once, it was very
Green, smelt
of soil and salt.
Of course,
that was before I lost
My innocence - before I found you.
***************
And this, from the wonderful Dylan Thomas...
And Death shall have no Dominion
And death shall have no
dominion.
Dead man naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.
