deepundergroundpoetry.com
Essex Woods
You haven’t lost your conviction
that somewhere in the Essex woods
the Essex witches roam,
that if in deepest winter you
survive the lashing chains of cold
you’ll see them dancing there,
lit by an undead bonfire,
beyond the high street and seafront,
a fall through time with eye contact
between you and a grinning witch.
that somewhere in the Essex woods
the Essex witches roam,
that if in deepest winter you
survive the lashing chains of cold
you’ll see them dancing there,
lit by an undead bonfire,
beyond the high street and seafront,
a fall through time with eye contact
between you and a grinning witch.
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