This Land is Full of Noises by Robert Nisbet

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Gypsy Blood by Wesley Scott McMasters

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2020/03/14/gypsy-blood-by-wesley-scott-mcmasters/

North of Oxford – The Pandemic Issue #2

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2020/04/25/north-of-oxford-the-pandemic-issue-2/

North of Oxford – The Pandemic Issue # 3

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2020/04/25/north-of-oxford-the-pandemic-issue-3/

North of Oxford – The Pandemic Issue #1

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2020/04/19/__trashed-2/

North of Oxford – The Pandemic Issue #4

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2020/04/27/north-of-oxford-the-pandemic-issue-4/

War of Elements by Akshaya Pawaskar

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2020/01/15/war-of-elements-by-akshaya-pawaskar/

As Promised, the fire by David P. Kozinski

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2020/05/15/as-promised-the-fire-by-david-p-kozinski/

This Land is Full of Noises by Robert Nisbet

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2020/01/15/this-land-is-full-of-noises-by-robert-nisbet/

Perspective by Robbi Nester

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2020/01/15/perspective-by-robbi-nester/

Medusa’s #Metoo by Luanne Castle

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2020/04/15/medusas-metoo-by-luanne-castle/

This Land is Full of Noises

Ours being a small and rural region,

much of our noise will be ripples and shifts,

quirks, half-mutes and ghostly sounds.

Yes, traffic certainly, a few loud racers,

the odd blasting exhaust, but get a mile away

from the small towns and it’s more a grumble.

The jets to America are too high to be heard.

There’s the now-and-again light aircraft drone

and the gliders, lower, hinting at a wind’s rush.

The sheep’s bleat can sometimes reach crescendo

but is often more a token of a stolid self.

The cow’s low is placid, stays short of the mournful.

The coastal winds can rise to a shriek, a pounding,

which can quickly drift on down to stillness

and soon to the sinking hiss of sea on sand.

Two sets of footsteps, trudging a Preseli peak,

just a slight crunching, faintest puffs of breath,

then the one flurry of the spoken …

Just .. well.. just want to say .. sorry ..

Few other sounds, just a slower breathing,

one long sigh, words of a kind .. ah .. well .. yes ..

and above, just the piping of the buzzard.

Robert Nisbet is a poet from rural Wales, about as far West of London as you can go. His work has been published widely in Britain and the USA, including regular appearances in San Pedro River Review and Panoply.