The final passage of man’s impact

Stones won and worked from a gritty rock face

Once made a shelter, a base, a home

Long abandoned and without form

A vegetated hump on the moor edge reveals

Tilted on its clean worked facet

A stone sink in ashlar remains whole

Testimony to lore

Cleanliness’ was next to godliness

In the high lonely Pennines

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Beck Stone

Rounded lump of grey gritstone now balanced in the beck

Divides rushing stream linking high heather moor to distant sea

 A shining silver thread through dale and wold to wide Humber

This same stone, surface scrubbed smooth by falling water

Now releases a stanza carved by a craftswoman from a script written by a poet

Ink to paper

Hammer to chisel

Rock to eye

Wo...

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