‘The Very End of Old Delph Will’ by Jean Atkin

  All Saddleworth was plagued by boggarts in those days. Such beings stumbled by like woolsacks. And they were wide as a lane and their eyes were blazing dinner plates and they were constantly likely to emit hot winds. The country people are frightened to death said Ammon Wrigley, folklorist. Or they were, until that day in 1710 when Old Delph Will met his end … Continue reading ‘The Very End of Old Delph Will’ by Jean Atkin

‘A Brock Geology’ by Jean Atkin

A Brock Geology Night falls & ………………………………………………fills the dingle with badgers badgers pressing grasses…………………………………………………to bent curves they feed & drink  ………………………………………………& play, they trail their piebald noses low ……………………………………………..to flow of brook & deep below, taste all the cold ………………………………………….then warming rocks red iron beneath their ………………………………………………………paws & pads they follow glint of mica ………………………………………………….in their skulls unlock the parish scents ……………………………………………..fling back its soil behind … Continue reading ‘A Brock Geology’ by Jean Atkin

‘Lost and Found at the Palacio de Peña’ by Jean Atkin

Lost and Found at the Palacio de Peña A golden dome and battlements bulge out of mist. February: the stucco sweats with moss. We ‘re all alone in a cloudy court on wet-shined chequered tiles. Tangled small rooms are crammed with chairs and dusty letters, pen nibs and little mirrors. Later, by a cracked glass in the pensão we will cut each other’s hair and … Continue reading ‘Lost and Found at the Palacio de Peña’ by Jean Atkin

‘George Aiken’s Map, 1846’ by Jean Atkin

  George Aiken’s Map, 1846 As if these paper islands were crumpled in a ball and crushed and hurled into backlit rain and rolled before a filthy wind – she wrings the sheet and smoothes it with strong palms, as if next she’d iron these wet and whalebacked hills – as if a capsized gale ripped up wet paper and melted it to rags, the … Continue reading ‘George Aiken’s Map, 1846’ by Jean Atkin