Photo by Joseph Reeder
Older Names
J. M. Summers
There is a certain satisfaction to
be found in the naming of things.
The trees that have blossomed,
brightening the otherwise bleak
hillside are Hawthorn; the bird
heard but not seen is a Chaffinch,
the one that lit on the gravestone
a Redstart. Just as the farmhouse
has been renamed by its new owner
from Tris Coed Farm to Sweetwell
Cottage, so there are older names
that are lesser used but linger,
still: Adar y to, Mwyalchen.
Caerllwyn Ganol lays claim to the
iron age fort that stands still in
its ruin on the hillside.
High in the sky other birds fly,
rendered nameless in their distance;
the older names that only they
remember, too.
J. M. Summers
There is a certain satisfaction to
be found in the naming of things.
The trees that have blossomed,
brightening the otherwise bleak
hillside are Hawthorn; the bird
heard but not seen is a Chaffinch,
the one that lit on the gravestone
a Redstart. Just as the farmhouse
has been renamed by its new owner
from Tris Coed Farm to Sweetwell
Cottage, so there are older names
that are lesser used but linger,
still: Adar y to, Mwyalchen.
Caerllwyn Ganol lays claim to the
iron age fort that stands still in
its ruin on the hillside.
High in the sky other birds fly,
rendered nameless in their distance;
the older names that only they
remember, too.