So young like jelly in a membrane sac
Less than a mouthful to any who pass with eyes
Barrow Byrn we came down to a stern track
Corpse stones from the hillside haunted our packs
My certain marriage to the earth was sundered.
The sky’s fabric thundered, rent in the instant
Trees grew here once.
Once fair. Once in clean air,
The book of meanings was closed
Once a place of silent prayer
Gloomy halls and incensed air
You do not know me.
Have not yet
The women are drawn apart, singing their own lays
Their backs aching and the earth still so hard.
I walked a wooded way not far from home,
discussed with wolves the scent of distant land
There was a bud up a tree
Thought of itself as little me.
