• Joanna Seldon

  • On the Downs above Kingston

    Pausing to perch on the usual stile,

    I turn away from the usual view

    That looks out into the far distance

    Over curvaceous slopes – the Downs

    Meandering above the valley,

    The catch of chalk cliff, the cars visible

    On road underneath.  I know

    Where it goes; bears them on to the sea

    Travelling east under a wide sky.


    No, I’m swivelled round, scanning

    The left-hand view – straight

    Up the hill, the grass close-nibbled

    By sheep, by rabbits, where I drop my gaze

    Into the field you do not cross

    When flocks are grazing there.

    The eye travels up to the

    Close-in vista of a bumpy hill

    And, beyond the field’s end,

    The dark clumps of trees.

    This angle disappears into

    Woodland.  You do not know where

    It leads to.  Neither do I.