Alan Brownjohn

"Following daily such a dread- ful trade to earn a living, With every second on that cliff So cruel and unforgiving,"

"Is fine - as long as no one comes And asks us what we do there... We'd have to say, Without our toil, Just who would know it grew there?"

"At dawn, a railwaywoman On a country platform whirls on the end of a chain An irrelevant key, while a young guard makes to wipe A crumb from her lapel; and see, she smiles A permissory smile you take in from your corner seat: A cameo of unrehearsed perfection."