Biblins Bridge & Back.
Swallows by the bridge playing effortless giddy games.
Ferns of excellent succulence.
Foam fringed rapids.
Lead lipped pinnacles.
Just crossed the border into Wales.
Everything spongy and porous.
Boa constrictor beech tree roots.
Green squeezing down now.
Pushing me - pulling me - into and through.
Irresistible ramps - the rumps of trees.
I can see The Seven Sisters with my own eyes.
Vacuous space full with birdsong.
Me and a Crow and a cold fire pit.
Nothing for my eyes to latch onto - smoothly flow through the undergrowth.
Aeron eirin tagu and roller coaster May Flies.
Feeling down the valley.
The exit ramp forest lines leading to town.
I've had no choice but to use my eyes to touch and feel.
I've had to imagine being touched.
I used to be hungry to be held.
I became hungry to hold.
Through another muddy gate.
Galvanised latch and swinging hinges.
Moving with the river now.
Gliding with the spirals.
Battery almost dead and Mino in my head.