Sharrah Pool

400m, 11°c, high river levels, peat from run off the Moor.

In peat, embedded in thickness of woodland, I am possessed by you -


Another inanimate rock, grain, twig for you to dance and crash over.
Unafraid,
a familiar lover, I grace your thirst with this flesh my Mother bore me,
thrust myself deep
in your thundering sway, hungering for a flood
of feeling.

I have missed you - the way a robin misses territory, after a fight gone wrong with another.

I take in oxygen, inhale freshness, linger on the solitude the way an addict tightly hangs onto the narcotics in their blood.

We are one.

Hours pass.

You - the fire, the fast flow, the lush spires of green bracken heavy with ticks.
You - the feather rain, the smoke across the valley, the logs as makeshift seats.
You - the savoured memory, the joy beneath the nails, the Mother chosen.

You are a home I cherish.