Moor

Moor

The gloaming has descended

An in between time

An in between place

Where cultivated land meets the wilderness

An edge

Things happen at the edge

I stand still

Give space to my thoughts

Damp air washes them clean

Darkness creeps over the land

Like a wave in shades of purple

Edging up the shore

But the sky is still vivid

The flames of the sun

Singing their final swan song

A grand finale before darkness wins 

Entirely

In the quietness I listen

To the rhythms of my body

Each heartbeat

Marks the time until death

I wonder where the sheep are

Where do they go

When night falls?

Do they find somewhere to nestle?

Out of sight like the birds

Across the valley

Beyond the hills

The possibilities seem endless

Over there perhaps Nature can reclaim

At least some of what we have taken from Her

Maybe

Things happen at the edge