The day is finished; the port is closed.
Some carry fire in red shirts.
Some make sparks with their bikes.
Some bring boxes of burning words grown from roots
in the earth. Truckers
with flaming decals on their trucks.
"To say the poems are meditations is too obvious, except that it is worth saying because such writing is rare; one must say more than that, that the way here as a record in poetic form is unique and, for anyone who has read her poems over decades now, the patient development is of something earned by a kind of stealth." David Hart on Gillian Allnut • Stride