READING LIGHTS
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poems of light and landscape in Lancaster 
a litfest project



THE QUAY                                                                by mike barlow

The Quay
On bright evenings you can look east 

   
Millennium Bridge
I tread the deck of midnight, docked
   
Dawn
No longer dreaming but not yet conscious
   
The Light of Day
A city built on trade, sea passage, risk



bashful alley                                             by Dinesh Allirajah


i. Silver fag packet crests a mud-slick wave



ii. ‘Mandie! Waz Ere’ in black marker 









iii. Your footsteps in the       passage 


iv. This time of morning is presided over by

lancaster train station                              by kim moore

That summer
Trains come in with darkened windows. 
The Station Master
I promised you I would come again 
The Last Train
Her quiet movements, the soft folding 
The Morning Commute
Shapes announce themselves in the dark
 

skerton bridge                                                  by david tait

First Light  At this hour the river is full of the night. 
Swan Light  The slow conveyor of the river 




Half Light  Be here when the swallows make way for the bats
Dying Light  I’m staring at the windows of Mainway Flats

the stone standing in Greaves park  by Carole Coates



When God was an Englishman  
one of his favoured sons 
We think we may have seen the Perseid Shower  
like someone out beyond Pluto striking matches
New light will find us out  
with its passion for details. 
Daylight is domestic  
and makes the stone a garden ornament, 

lune AQUEDUCT                                             by ron scowcroft


i. In their day they called this ‘art’,

ii. Late afternoon: kids, bright as pick and mix, taking the cut,

iii. Diorama – anthracite and lime

iv. Cold light of dawn,

jubilee tower                                             by elizabeth burns

i. Here’s the place on the road where you stop: stop to breathe 




ii. Here’s where you stop to watch the setting sun –

iii. Here’s the place where you stop and look up
iv. Here’s a place to watch the day beginning, 

loyn bridge                                                         by jane routh

i. Headwaters, drawn from Green Bell, 
ii. A column of gnats above the cutwater’s apex.
iii. Such a small lane for a bridge of such substance.
iv. This is the landscape’s intimate hour, arranging

alexandra square, lancaster university     by andrew mcmillan

         
        composed tower       witness      no crime


  three men       lie down       a hole      alive


  no light      the belly      no prayers      his eyes


  mounted      head again      back in

by the mouth of the lune                          by sarah hymas

i. Larger than the sky, it is a sponge
ii. As light twines to dark
iii. However black the night
iv. Dawn is as unknown as the depths







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