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Across the Pans

Close your eyes,
Lose yourself in the slapping
Creaking rhythm of leather; the cycling
Pulse of lungs and easy muscle
Fluid beneath you, even in
The rare splash and spray
Of water in the pan.

Close your eyes,
Absorb it, your bodies one:
The rich sour-sweet horse smell
And your man-smell one between you.

You are again
Wet-legged in the vleis and drifts
Of home,
Boundary mountains purple-grey
Above you, and ahead
The suspicion of an evening fire
In the chimney plume above the house.

Drink it in,
In the steady splashing rhythm,
Until it falters at a fence
Bringing you awake,
Into a world of sun
And war.

Print:  440mm x 340mm

Each print is signed by Peter Badcock.

Printed on museum-quality 308gsm Hahnemühle Photo Rag© fine art matt paper.


I02.Across the Pans

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