Poem: "Randall's Island"
Randall’s Island On the brow of a lonely hill kneeling I saw the brown heath growing there. —Emily Brontë, “Loud without the wind was roaring” As Emily, far away from her flat home, saw on the hill a sign of home, so, on this island that is not the right island, by this river that is not the right river, this artificial turf is a sign of home. This artificial turf is my heath.