Rob Galpin

A girl, tortured and whipped
and finally shipped to the black bottom
of the world.
The cargo that still could move, crawled.
It is not recorded whether she crawled,
or was carried out of the hold.
But she lived.

The Gunpowder Park an hour out from dawn.
Dry notes of black pepper -
Yarrow and saxifrage,
Wild carrot and teasel.
Muted essence of Nobel.
A blinding light
In the dank and dawn-whited willow carr.