Basket Weaver Of Ludlow Poem by Sheena Blackhall

The basket weaver of Ludlow
Is tanned as a twist of tobacco

He sits on a small stool,
His willows around him,
Spokes and strands and stakes
Shoots and knife and bodkin
Like a mediaeval magpie
A maker of nests and straw

Here, amongst houses of timber and wattle
He is absorbed in his work
Like a mother French-pleating
A much loved daughter's hair.

Buildings of concrete and glass
Could be aeons away
And yesterday, a side-step into light