On Beacon Fell


Brown upon brown, where the pine forest thinned,
And the slanted gold bars of the sunlight broke in
Through the ceiling
The stag as it crashed
Through the thicket and stopped on the pine needle path
Like a juggernaut,
Scattering thought upon thought
With the soil. Feeling drunk and unable to breathe
We just stared, hardly daring to move or believe
Just how close we were standing, the air thick with fear.
Then the spell broke. It bolted and smashed through the weir,
Fading brown into brown. As the day flooded back
I remembered the camera I’d left in my pack.

16 responses to “On Beacon Fell

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