sitting silently
upon theseĀ rocks
above the cold
of a quarried box
across the angled
faces steep
watching shadows
slowly creep
and the darkened smile
of a fracture cracked
all through this hill
but here – where hacked
it is exposed
to the wild winds
at this look-out –
but look within
it runs and runs
all along these views
the length of the hill
and for more – continues
so look into
the mountain’s rent
below the manes of pines
by the cold winds bent
for the very heart
of the world is dark
but listen – above
sings the bright skylark
and blue harebells
so very sweet
lie here scattered
all around my feet
nodding with
the summer breeze
for ill winds blown out
now all is at ease
until mid-day
will the shadows shrink
then they’ll grow cold and long
with the black of ink
but until then
under all weathers
I’ll just sit here – in purple
among the heather.