Laces caked in Edale clay
by Sarah L Dixon (thequietcompere.co.uk)
Sarah L Dixon
Saturday 28 August 2021

This article is from
Ones to Watch
issue 69
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Torches exhausted
heavy feet drag towards a lit door
we bundle around the fire
stripping saturated layers from damp backs.
Hats bobble on sturdy tables
measled flesh prickles as it heats,
wet clothes burn dry on too-hot radiators
I untie laces caked with Edale clay.
the aged wood of the pub creaks with complacency.
I ignore the pumps for seven local ales
and order mulled wine on tap.
Candles are lit.
Clacks and hisses as the kitchen wakes.
Beef with a mustard slash, gravy, roast spuds,
Tidgy puds, peas and carrots.
Rain beats its powerful lullaby
we are soothed by gales grasping the windows
sashaying around the mountain.
We tunnel deeper under old-fashioned throws
and flannelette sheets.
No duvets here. No Match of the Day. No Ten O'clock News.
Just last orders. A Talisker hot toddy.
(Published in Half Moon poems for pubs anthology, 2016)
Cover photo: Sid Balachandran
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