Morpeth mopes amidst the mildewed mounds
Of coke and coal and grime hewn by hungry hands.
Derelict Silos silhouetted in a moonlit sky
Iron beasts and barren landscapes
Whilst Angel spreads her wings on hillside high.
Deep scars and seams of people slain
In Tanfield beneath the sleet and driving rain
The worlds oldest railway dilapidated in dormant sidings dies
Testament to Britain- the first industrial nation,
An epithet built on poor peoples’ lives.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
We spent Easter in the wind snow and rain, touring the North-East. This is for d’verse where we were asked to consider pilgrimage. To me this was a true pilgrimage. It was a journey I felt compelled to take. We stand on the shoulders of giants.