Roz Chalk

Roz Chalk: After many years of teaching in london and lecturing in painting at Ruskin Cambridge Roz resumed her interest in poetry, reading across a wide range of voices, and writing new and revising her old poems.


The river run is wide today
and high after all the rain
flooded to the banking walls
where the stone beach ends.
Mo tells me: Jo’s had another episode.
They found him howling on High Cliff.
His doctors recommend a couple of years
they mean more of course
at Bridport
too far from his mother’s
and there’s no-one to take her
no-one has time to take her. Sometimes
she can’t find her way to the recycling
Sure, she can tell you all you’d want
to know of air-scape flight of the glider
over the moor, the Cornubian Batholith,
the dating of xenotime samples,
the 40 distinct minerals
and tin mine cassiterite, then
lose the way to the end of her garden.
But, leaning on the Moorstone
memory speaks,
all fizz and dazzle,
her and Mo on the sea wall
smoking and laughing,
watching the boats
bank up the stones
above the tide-lines fringe.

Roz Chalk

Poem published in paper Places by Water:poetic enquiries,
(as Runayker, visual artist with Roz Chalk, nom de plume for poetry).

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