I have written three poems while here at Tyburn--here is one.
May 1535 for the Feast of the Tyburn Martyrs
Cherry blossoms fell in muddied lanes
--the bridgegrooms' path.
White chevaliers on wooden horses,
not stomping greys,
Taunt, not chants met their ears
which disregarded discord.
Fair Houghton, fair men witnessed
by the lone lawyer through
Slit-stone windows--long day
of hesed love, long memories
As we stand here at Tyburn.
