Poetry Centre

Evening walk

  • In a foreign land I had a dream:
    I zigzagged down New College Lane
    In radical coat and brown DMs
    Toothbrush in my 501s.

    Past long walls hiding centuries’ learning
    To Queen’s Lane and the trafficking High
    I sauntered slow, my insides skipping
    Towards another’s room.

    I woke, years away, weeping,
    Aching for this Oxford journey
    Lit up in my mind
    Like a first love.

    by Ailsa Holland