Carpe …

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There’s blood on the blacktop, and a

Space in the peaceful pasture,

In the warm evening air, in

The fabric of the very landscape;

Accustomed company is gone.

The stars shake a little, in grief;

The roe buck pauses, sniffs

The light off-the sea wind for the

Familiar scent, fails to find it,

Shivers nervously, reminded of

Something a little beyond ken.

The dark cattle, lying down, chew over

Memory of mischievous speed

And impossible stillness in flight that

Channelled enchantress disappearance.

The hare that was there, unafraid,

Wild as myth, all spring

– Dancing, boxing, charming –

Will only be a long ear shadow

On the full moon’s face

This night –

Reminder to us all –

But never again in the meadow.

Copper and Diamond

On the railway-edge of

The borders of town,

 January’s watchman lowers

Industrial warehouse evening shutters

On a wet gone-along day.

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Be Sure

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Be certain-sure that the full

Treasure-moon also rises; that

elven-blued stars wing across autumn skies

In the rich fairy lands; the realms we

May be lucky enough to glimpse

Only behind our eyelids;

Beyond our fragile, tip-toe dreams.

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