A man told me stories from the Wesht.
That’s how he said it. The Wesht.
And all he spoke to in the town
said it that way too. The Wesht.
He said that when someone was
dying the dogs do bark at night.
Or a strange bird would be seen
within a week of a death in a house.
He said “they do say that’s true”.
That’s how he knew it.
And even though he’s on the computer,
or the mobile phone to America,
The Dark is just outside the door.
And the Dark will have its say,
whether in the Wesht or in the Easht,
it will be listened to.
Martin Swords
Sept 2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem