York in Poetry: The Freedom of Air

Posted on 25 November 2012 | Poem, Audio

St Olave’s bells
call me to
Museum Gardens;
papers in the park.
On to Judi Dench walk,
a slow vanilla cone
at the Sticklebacks café
by the Ouse.
Head for the moors;
Private Passions on Radio 3
Brahms brings me to Brandsby,
Kathryn Tickell
pipes memories of
Northumberland fells.
On the old drove road
above Nunnington
a cornet soars;
Lady sings the blues.

I take in my fill of
Howardian hills.
Tall pines frame
high cumulus;
ripened maize
sways in the breeze
Red haws gleam before
stubble fields.
A hare stares
alerted by a footfall,
aware of the wonder of it all;
stone walls, fields, trees.
360 degrees of it.

- Elizabeth Sandie