Moon and moor

Susie Wright

The bush brimmed moors smooth the distance and take my eye over surface to mound to curve to surface again.

A bright bald moon starched night,

Where cars, like land comets bouce off into the black.

Boots crack on fern splinters,

mud crusts, then gives.

Diamonte pathways jostle and giggle as I tread.

Brittle stalks, furred with ice, spurred on hard beds, reach out and up to their own milleniums.

I am stuck, iced to the earth.

The round white light fastens me to the floor, shapes my shadow and hits me smack on the forehead.

Out here, around me, is the big, it takes the micro to macro and back again.

Busy thoughts swarm and mass as disturbed ants, checking blind alleys, following each other, hair and bone capped.

Out there, a lid of infinity seals the entirety of it all.

It fits, it works, hums in complex simplicity.

It takes me by the elbows and hums out my thoughts like atrophied atoms

to sky-flung pathways.

‘I’ve got the answers’ it yawns,

‘share my glinty beauty, toss your iron questions to the stars.

The answer is simple.

Stop here always,

sit frost still and watch me

change, anger, smile,

blow for eternity.

I am !