Cop Stone

The van and I went for a little wander, a drink and a spot of smoked salmon on Helton after work.

Breath by Don Paterson - translation of Rilke from 'Orpheus'

Breath, you invisible poem -
pure exchange, sister to silence,
being and its counterbalance,
rhythm wherein I become,
ocean I accumulate
by stealth, by the same slow wave;
thriftiest of seas... Thief
of the whole cosmos! What estates,
what vast spaces have already poured
through my lungs? The four winds
are like daughters to me.
So do you know me, air, that once sailed through me?
You, that were once the leaf and rind
of my every word?