Dart Alice Oswald Quotes

What I love is one foot in front of another. South-south-west and down the contours. I go slipping between Black Ridge and White Horse Hill into a bowl of the moor where echoes can't get out listen a lark spinning around one note splitting and mending it and I find you in the reeds, a trickle coming out of a bark, a foal of a river

Why is this jostling procession of waters, its many strands overclambering one another, so many word-marks, momentary traces in wind-script of the world’s voices, why is it so bragging and surrendering, love-making, spending, working and wandering

Tillworkers, thieves and housewives, all enshrined in sleep, unable to look round; night vagrants, prisoners on dream-bail, children without parents, free-trading, changing, disembodied, blind dreamers of every kind; even corpses, creeping disconsolate with tiny mouths, not knowing, still in tears, still in their own small separate atmospheres, rubbing the mould from their wet hands and feet and lovers in mid-flight all sank like a feather falls, not quite in full possession of their weight.