Always at the ripped rock wall,
\nhigh above the reservoir, stop.
\nHere, it began.
\nLook down now. This is compelling,
\nthis view ages me.<\/p>\n
I cannot be here, but soon the trees,
\nstrain against wind and sky.
\nStumpy, hawthorn, rowan,
\ntwisted druid\u2019s crook.
\nHooks me to the damp bed.<\/p>\n
Let me walk again, east,
\ndown to the stone hedge,
\nthe edge of the moor.
\nDesolate, rut and mire, coarse,
\nnothing interrupts to make a view.<\/p>\n
No stone, no tree.
\nPerspective\u00a0 flattens,
\nthe sky and moor meet, west.
\nValley, bordered by pine,
\nlofty, bedded with needles, shelter.<\/p>\n
Down to the stream where
\ntea was once made, shared,
\nthe water gritty, tasting of peat.
\nOut of the valley, no hardship,
\na slight uplift,\u00a0 lark ascends.<\/p>\n
Coombeshead, the tor low,
\nmemory is staked here,
\npassion even.
\nThe treasure in no surprise.
\nOnce these were insignificant.<\/p>\n
They held no allure,
\nToo small to be feared,
\ntoo remote to be useful.
\nNow they come to play, on
\nCuckoo rock.<\/p>\n
Potato cave, once,
\nbut no, let that rest.
\nTurn away again, pain at leaving.
\nSheepstor, Leather tor,
\nBurrator, north.<\/p>\n
I was here once, young,
\nimpressionable, excited,
\nin love with being at this time.
\nHere again, jaded cynicism slips away,
\nblessed, remembering.<\/p>\n
Here I can believe again,
\nI need not fear time.
\nPressed, imortal
\nThe scene holds me still,
\nthe water flows, the moor remains.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Always at the ripped rock wall, high above the reservoir, stop. Here, it began. Look down now. This is compelling, this view ages me. I cannot be here, but soon the trees, strain against wind and sky. Stumpy, hawthorn, rowan, … Continue reading