Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

North

Some-one re-threads a fishing rod by torchlight

then re-beads the line with Ugie Droplets.

Later he reels in newspaper then walks homewards.

East

Waves crack their knuckles on shadowed sea-walls

and suck their teeth through rust-ribbed lobsterpots.

At the sailing club, sails dry into the night.

A woman closes shutters like oak eyelids.

South

Instead of milk-pails, men pile up oil-drums

to blot the moon. Their hearts tick in time to

the spattering pipelines and rain on hard-hats.

They shine torches on skeins instead of helicopters.

West

Combine harvesters hum into the night –

spitting stems in wake across rutted earth.

Sparrows chorus with the farmer’s whistles.

They guide him home, flitting between branches.