On the Moor

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On the Moor

For Rosalind

 

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

I follow

Two sisters in January gale

Doing what we have always loved.


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This page contains a single entry by Alakananda Ma published on January 11, 2012 4:02 PM.

Starlings was the previous entry in this blog.

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