where they walked
where they walked their historical feet
left ancient traces in the mud that was young
and they saw the trees and the water,
all the life where animals were
just as i do. they are forgotten and gone,
their medieval twilight like mine
though; this is their empty eternity,
some conscious knowledge through time's
night: once they were life
David McLean is Welsh but has lived in Sweden since 1987. He lives there on an island in a large lake called Mälaren, very near to Stockholm, with woman, cats, and a couple of large black and tan dogs. He is an atheist, an anarchist and generally disgusting. He has a BA in History from Balliol, Oxford, and an MA in philosophy, taken much later and much more seriously studied for, from Stockholm. Up to date details of well over a thousand poems in various zines - both print and online, both degenerate and reputable - over the last three years or so are at his blog at http://mourningabortion.blogspot.com. There you will also find details of several currently available books and chapbooks - including three print full lengths, four print chapbooks, and a free electronic chapbook.