Pool-deep, bridge street
astride the River Anker:
summer whiter than clay-dust,
winter blacker than coal
in a pit shaft, its rich seam of stars
gleaming adrift, glittering.
Once you rode horses
down this street. Now you save fuel
and recycle, consider the climate.
Still the River Anker trembles
full-lipped, spilling
generous from its broad lap:
pool-path, flood-deep,
hooking your houses
and streets back up to the heart
of a village. For you, home
is where the anchor is.
Jane Holland
Location: On the river bank