Saturday, August 13, 2011

Waterfront poem - Wellington

You would so easily pass it by, as I did on my walk along the waterfront on the way to the cathedral early this morning. But ... Coming back the same way, I saw it. A plain cement block set against the wall of the wharf, below the path and by some steps. Modest, unassuming but surprising. No attribution given, but carved in the cement were these words:

My quiet morning hill
Stands like an altar drawn
Whereon hushed hands shall lay
The shining pyx of dawn.

With penitence and stir,
And drowsy flurry by,
The wind, a shamefaced serving-boy,
Comes running up the sky.

It is a from a poem by Eileen Duggan.

My Quiet Morning Hill

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