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Crevice Weeds Writings—«waifs of many a wreck»—motley and fragmentary writings—sketchy and faulty—failed, perhaps—unconfined—along the borders, upon the thresholds and into the chinks of literature, «as foam that the sea-winds fret»…

Northern Crown Addendum








beautiful pale fingers brushing the harp, writing and talking together, eyes towards the ocean around Penmarch remembering Drystan and Essylt, dreaming awake, sitting into the wind before the roaring waves at the Pointe du Raz, aware illusion, going into the dark passage of Gavrinis within wavy and concentric engravings on the stones, reading and walking together, looking towards the Isle of Man under circling and shrieking seamews from Stranraer, alway eyes of shared dreams, walking among the shades of the standing stones, widened time at a standstill, traveling down deep inside to arise anew to see things through an odd shared gaze, and most of all no bookstore overlooked, especially if «dark and dusty and half-lost», replete with «congeries of crumbling elder lore at little cost», and through the coveted old books which tell of hidden ways and dim visions the true nether tracings happen










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