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Helen Swift

12 Oct 2021

A poem by Katie Simpson

We’re held here,
but in motion,
but not silent.

We breathe a little lighter
as she breathes,
creaks and sways.
And we sway a little,
burdens loosening,
as she lifts,
up from the mud,
away with the tide.

And what we find here,
as the birds call
and the wind moans,
we’ll carry with us,
our own cargo,
light as a feather,
bright as the stars.

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