Selaw ni Taerter
It is quite early one morning
I am lying next to the woman who taught me the terrors of the flesh and more recently the fever for lost romance
She my Myfanwy
Me her Mog
Dreams and letters consummated
Through the window Triumphal light crosses the hills Red kites circle high
The cattle low
In the hollow of the garden
A shed
My personal Laugharne
Inside, a battered chair and flaking bureau
that contains copies of the Welsh bards words a guide to the moon and the original Beibl Du Thumb marked at Mathew 6:21
“Am ble mae’ch trysor, bydd eich calon hefyd”
(Raymond C Bramford)
