Transhumance

By David Batten

In the mountains of France the seasonal movement of livestock from one region to another acts as a metaphor for transition and transformation in the human the human world, whilst 'humance' relates us to the natural world; to the animals we rely on, to the seasons affecting our behaviours, our movements. And the seasons themselves are also in transition: behaving – often unpredictably – according to a cosmic order governed by strange powers: black holes, red/black/white dwarves, planets, stars. The tightly honed lyrical poetry of Transhumance follows a narrative arc that recognises that we are irrelevant in our minuteness and yet central to everything; without our interference things fall apart, yet sometimes our interference is what unravels things. Exploring how humanity is rooted in and linked to everywhere and everything, Batten brings a fresh voice and precise language to this reflective debut collection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cinnamon Press
• Release date: Sep 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781910836446

David Batten

David Batten studied history and ideology at Hull College and Hull University, where he took his Master's degree, and also played back row for Hull & East Riding RFC, before rejoining family in Gwynedd, teaching at Coleg Meirion Dwyfor, then working in community development in North Wales. His debut collection Transhumance was published in 2016; a pamphlet, Storme Passage in 2017; followed by Untergang in 2018, and his most recent collection, Winterreis in 2021, all published by Cinnamon Press. David has also published the prose work, Rotterdam, part autobiography, part philosophical reflection. He now lives in the Aveyron in southern France.

Book preview

Forging October

Merge Yorkshire’s moors with Mid-Wales’ mounds,

boost it up over twelve hundred metres,

float it out under an ocean-wide sky

for ultra-violet space bombardment

to bleach nodding grasses  whiten remains

settling into dried-out peat, light cramming

into everything. Let cows, still roaming

amble off the fabric’s edge into dark valleys

path prepared the descent into winter.

On fencing posts, on mammoth stones riding

uncleared steppe, site buzzards and kites, still as

statues before a signal—gamma rays

at a certain angle, appearance of

a moon—until the invisible stir

of thermals in the cooling of the year

lends the lift they need to sweep smooth domes

and shallow folds freezing small mammal