Taking The Waters
I need to go for a walk,
take my choler off,
rive frost rimed edges,
hard graffito furrows;
double dig a seasons secrets
with soul-soaked boots.
Rag up muse, rotted carcasses,
small journeyman pelt bundles,
mummified knuckle and claw;
post prandial belches of fleet Nightwing.
Reflect in their last sylvan moments,
mineral slushed in snow-melt,
seeped in rills through empty burrow;
times' slow drip back to the flow.
Cascade in helix of fur filaments,
streaked sungold in treacle-peat spray;
mist of a moor blinked static
in trick-flicker frequency.
Quiver with moth leaved fern.
Fury, feathered in roiled
up-draft over gaping maw.
Thought plunge heartchoke stream;
an ice torrent rage through rapacious
Scream out a paen to life slice pain,
scythed benediction of winter a hills'
gristgrey stain in rip-tendon frost slivers.
Receive splinterblue veined blessings,
grimaced by sullen bonewhite crag.
Quicken, warm embraced in solid sensory
snarl-up; grease marled, gorse-snagged old wool.
Blood myself with lachrymose earth,
rich redolent heme tang;
scent of small troubadour lives
sung, silent in scoured honesty.
Chance upon tight-coiled Springs' turn
in a blancburnished Ram's horn,
gushed through an aven to cavern floor,
ground smooth on the bore
down age scored passages, gashed
over aeons striation of February floods.
Fluff pocket a Gore Dale talisman.
Mayhap, I will.
Tap-dance pattered steps
across limestone pavements,
before this land awakens,
to howl once more,
in fierce March winds.
minor ed 11.10.12
Minor punctation ed 21.08.19