Other Loves

Almscliffe Crag

'Park here!' he said, but you knew best and we

Drove on a little further, laying by

On the broken verge, near the crooked stile,

Stone walls guarding the hilltop, millstone keep.

You carried him over the mud, laughing,

The air clean and cold, but strangely windless,

A winter sun's rays bright over the moor

And soft on skin that needed this kindness.

It was joy, I saw, and love, as you both

Danced between the shimmer threads that drifted

Like childhood's dreams above the grassy slopes,

Careless, happy with tomorrow's promise.

'Come hither!' he cried, and a small hound did,

Your small boy a king atop Almscliffe Crag,

A parquor warrior leaping deftly

To the summit, you, tired but quietly proud.

And as chill evening beckoned, we watched

the vanishing light in gentle silence,

Sunset's golden rip ablaze between dark,

pink-fired clouds and the shadowed, rolling hills.

27th November 2016 (E)