On the Moor
This is what we have always loved
Battling through bitter wind
Head doon an' bash on
Rain stinging our faces
Sheep fleeing as we approach.
We hike, soaking wet
Through a watercolourist's fantasy
Ochre, umber, burnt sienna, viridian.
We walked bog and moor together
When I was nine and you were three
Hopping from tussock to tussock
Your tiny hand tight in mine.
You've made your home on these moors
And I among ponderosa pine
And tallgrass prairie.
Today you stride ahead
Two sisters in January gale
Doing what we have always loved.