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Peter Trower

A WILD GIRL TO WALK THE WEATHERS WITH
for Yvonne

On bleak or blistering days
mountain-goating the hard tilting hills
in gaunt ice-carved valleys
slide-scarred,
headstoned with the high-notched stumps
of earlier invasions,
I fear no more the dancing deadly rigging
the sudden sidewinding logs
the hanging Babylonian slabs
for life has opened,
and I have at last
a wild girl to walk the weathers with.

In other camps, valleys, years,
I moved in terror between the lashing lines
and the not-loving,
the not-being-loved
burned more deeply than the fear.

But though the hazards remain
ubiquitous as ever
they are endurable now
for life has opened
and I have at last
a wild girl to walk the weathers with.


















Yvonne Klan 1930-2004