At the wooden bridge, beside
under frayed dare-devil
rope-swing, we small-fry gather;
splash-paddle in the sun-filled
slipstream, our expectant
jam jars perched ready on banks
for contents of day-glo
nets on bamboo poles,
skim-dunked, dipped into laughing
sparkle, we seek out elusive
piscine lurkers, shoal-darters,
sticklebacks, shimmer and shift
in ever-changing shallow-shadows.
We graft all afternoon, rewarded
by encounters with small wildness,
iridescent scale inspection
through jars held up to the light.
A busy day meeting our fishy friends,
our neighbours of the water;
we send them back before barefoot-flapping,
wet and toasted, up the hill home.
Hogsmill Tiddlers was originally published as one of the poems on my now sold-out Over the Fields map, back in September 2015. It has since been published in The Countryman magazine and is also used in teaching materials for the Open University’s MA in Creative Writing.
I have just pinned Hogsmill Tiddlers to another map, showing the location of the poem, on the Places of Poetry web site. This is an AHRC and Arts Council funded project which “aims to use creative writing to prompt reflection on national and cultural identities in England and Wales, celebrating the diversity, heritage
and personalities of place.”
We still cross the bridge nearly every day on our walks ‘Over the Fields’. Five generations of Furlongs and counting…