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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