April 2017
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The Hill of Crosses
This poem is inspired by a recent visit to the Hill of Crosses in Šiauliai, Lithuania. Ashed grey and weathered through Surrounded some century’s Past suffering not so different from our own. To come and lay a sign That love releases to save Black memory’s, solidify some erotic emotions alluring And then wander…
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Our Streets
I encountered more people With faces, sunken Cut through with a cold stone blade Blinked- then an opportunity missed For here, now to give wider No eyes to see change Through skin so scaled and rusted That your copper coin sticks fast To make a golden impression to Listen and answer the rattling Of the…
Hattie Butterworth 