She is Sabrina, wending through Worcester,
gestures: splashes rock
in moonlight on windborne scents
of cow parsley and whispering waters,
her shadow caught by the clan.
Paths millions of years old
age around smooth muds
trodden by man.
She snakes through four counties,
visits the fairest cities,
leaves her sister to landscape
purple hills and golden valleys,
but she never strays far
from the haunts of men.
All this we know as we hear the river
swooping and dancing, see eyes close
romancing and glancing at words
to celebrate the place in which we stay.
It’s midsummer – midsummer eve.
Polly Robinson © 2015
To celebrate Midsummer Eve, this poem is written prior to tonight’s midnight walk around the River Severn – 10:30 meet at the Cripplegate Park entrance nearest Worcester Bridge – there will be performances!