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Sunday, July 1, 2012

Old Village Walk

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Our guide apologized for the mist,
the modern version of London fog
obscuring the postcard sight
of the city from where we stood.
I wanted to say:  forget the view
of St. Paul's from four miles off,
a glimpse of the rotating Eye.
Let me follow these twisting
stone lanes, stand on Lower Terrace
where Constable lived with his beloved Maria,
where he began his first paintings of clouds and skies.
I'll walk near Millfield Lane, where Keats
encountered Coleridge just that once,
where the heath grass feels thick and luscious
under my feet.  I'll gladly take the deep
green slope down to the Vale where
Leigh Hunt's cottage once stood.
Hazlitt, Byron and large Liberal thinkers
flocked there and, on that pond, Shelley,
the great Shelley, sailed his paper boats.  


First published in Poetry East.



Andrea Potos is the author of four poetry collections, most recently We Lit the Lamps Ourselves, published by Salmon Poetry.  Her book Yaya's Cloth received an Outstanding Achievement Award in Poetry from the Wisconsin Library Association in 2008.  Born and raised in Milwaukee, Andrea has lived in Madison now for many years.


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