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Sue Leigh Poetry


Silbury Hill



They found no bones there

no crouching dead

only a rusted bridle bit


and the red deer antler picks

our settling ancestors used

to hack out the chalk –


I think of them (on this day

when snow turns to sleet

and the dark comes quickly)


making something

most would never see finished,

a white hill


that might lift them

out of that flooded river valley

a little nearer the sun

Published in ‘Chalk,’ a pamphlet of poems published by Evergreen Press this year.  Please contact me at to purchase copies.



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