Jake Morris-Campbell
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Epigraphs

I bent to the lamp. I cupped

My hand to the glass chimney.

Yet it was a stranger’s breath

From out of my mouth that

Shed the light. I turned out

Into the salt dark

And turned my collar up.

W. S. Graham, The Nightfishing1

As aw was gannin’ t’ Durham

Aw met wi’ three jolly brisk women

Aw asked – what news at Durham?

They said – Joyful days are cumin

William Martin, ‘Marratide’2

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Between the salt and the ash

A journey into the soul of Northumbria

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