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A poem from ‘Missing the Eclipse’ by Joan Hewitt

I’ve been reading ‘Missing the Eclipse’ by Joan Hewitt. I like to think I’ve read quite a lot of poetry over the past few years, and I think Joan’s work is very distinctive for the unsentimental honesty with she confronts emotions, both ‘difficult’ and joyful. You can read more about Joan by clicking this link to  Cinnamon Press .

These poems have a richness and purity to them, an intense energy, the pulse of life  without artifice or obscurity. I’ve asked Joan if I could post her poem ‘Truants at Ironbridge’ and she has kindly agreed so thanks Joan!  The poem is atypical of the collection in that it is quite short. It is so vivid and full of life. I love the contrast between the huge monuments of industry and the frivolity of the ‘truants’ who are ‘too tender for the Coalbrookdale Iron Museum’. Beautiful.

Truants at Ironbridge

Hot morning on the river path
below the power-station’s cooling towers.

Honeysuckle and stinkweed tickle
our bare legs; and the morning-glory gapes.

We’re infants in the world’s cradle of industry,
too tender for Coalbrookdale Iron Museum

the Tar Tunnel, or the Victorian Town.
Your pink mouth exclaims at the yellow wagtail

opening and closing its beak on dry gravel,
I’m laughing and spitting out midges,

and the first iron bridge in the world hangs
upside down in the river’s brown throat.
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2 thoughts on “A poem from ‘Missing the Eclipse’ by Joan Hewitt”

    1. Thanks Mark, it’s good of you to comment- always good to get feedback. There are some excellent poems in ‘Missing the Eclipse’ which Joan tells me ‘fell into a reveiwing black hole.’ I particularly like the one’s that deal with her parents, and there are one with erotic themes in there that I admire Best Wishes Roy

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