Gill Horitz
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She contemplates stone,
her work to watch
light and shade,
hour after hour.
The beginning
of eloquence
on the flat altar.
The ritual of hammer and chisel.
The sacrament she makes.
Charms ring and ring.
She, the pit head giant
with hands spanning
eight decades,
moves stone
with an iron wand
tucked into its hem.
Her ideas squat
on her lawns
until someone comes,
someone else looks
at the rock traps.
Then out fly the angels,
out fly the eagles and the ram
rising into the yews.
We look up,
see the black rags
of rooks flapping.
No seraphic wings
yet something in the garden
moves the freestone feathers.
Dorset Sculptor: Mary Spencer Watson
Earlier versions published in:
Doors – into and out of Dorset 50 (1995)
Purbeck Pebbles, (2023)