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Christina Buckton, Cambridge

Poems on the Buses Exhibition


I’ve only just realised who it is that I drive ninety miles to meet in a gravel layby at the corner of a barley field. And we lay by and listen to Rosalyn Tureck playing her well tempered clavier It’s William that’s who it is the man whose hand explored my hand at a personal awareness course in 1989 Only our hands, but when I’m sleeping I drive there we listen and say see you next year That’s it Only our hands