Two Poems by David Landrum

Land's End

The waters churn around the Seven Stones,
last footfall to the long Atlantic’s miles;
rock promontories, vertebrae and bones
of substratum, the bedrock shafts, the piles
that brace this island-mass of land stretched out
from Muckle Fluge to here;  the Hebrides
to smallish crags where white spume-circles spout,
the frothing tides of intercepted seas.

This other Eden, demi-paradise;
this England.  Shakespeare shaped words the same way
these gull-embroidered islets shape and splice
the thridding currents roiling in this bay—
Land’s End but land’s beginning;  lifted palm
halting the sea before the coastland’s calm.

 <  1 2