The Weekly Poem #36


Pauline Yarwood
Hazel whips

One winter, a person or persons unknown
taking some time along the lane
bent hazel whips into arches

bare until spring
absurdly magical
panoptics to another place

now a lashing has snapped away
the arc sprung to upright and I could weep
for how easily we give this weight.



Pauline Yarwood was born in Cumbria and grew up in Manchester. After teaching English and Ceramics in various places around the UK, she returned to Cumbria in 1987 and lives in the Lyth Valley, where she writes, makes pots and tends a very boggy garden next to the River Gilpin. She is a member of the Brewery Poets workshop in Kendal.


The Weekly Poem is published in our e-newsletter, The Weekly Word, and then on the website – read more poems here>>. Submissions are always welcome from anyone who is a native or resident of Cumbria. Please send poems of up to 20 lines to