The Long Road 2.0

The Long Road  
 
Graceful and merciless,  
the long road,  
on the last days of Summer as her cloak draws in thick and languid and heavy,  
here on a path made of the rubble  
of a life, on a path  
made of a shell of pupa, crossing bracken and dragonfly and bramble  
I sink down by a cool stream where I have to remove my shoes and tights and bathe my feet to cross -  
so stop,  
and feed you from my flesh,  
and we begin again.  
 
Graceful and merciless,  
the long road,  
miles without maps, company without companions, you and I peering across the brightness,  
and you coo to me from your mew  
which allows me these retreats  
onto the muddy plane, onto the green, onto the moor, across the ancient Tor sides,  
I scramble up to see a Cuckoo that isn’t a cuckoo, to drink from a flask, to  
savour  
a moment  
and share this moment with you -  
and we begin again.  
 
Graceful and merciless,  
the long road.