the mouth of hell

I dream twice of a fulmar
the same place
wind blasted
held and buffeted
feathers torn
body discoloured

I wondered
looked into myth
knew not the story

then suddenly
I remember

it was at hell’s mouth
I first met the bird

and when I flustered
dreamed that

I was at the mouth of hell

shopping
tripping on a stone
guarding a grandchild
loving a son
cherishing a daughter
feeling a wheeze
a tickling chafing to the left
exertion to the right
in my heart
in the sun
leaves glistening
an arching road
beyond the chase
the beechwood formidable

where the fulmar
tattered by vapours
stilled the air revealing

This dry summer and the Earth is cracked

Opening rifts around the more recent

Graves where my mother and sister are buried

So riven and shrunken the soil

Their headstone rocks to my weight and

There is nothing to depend upon

Yet still I’ll tarry

Sketch the scene

Walk the churchyard

Wonder at the Cypresses

Open the Great King James

On Daniel

Envied for honour 

Sunk in the anchoress ocean

Where the lions

Could but swim

Out here this hot summers day

I am flailing in the light

Petalled in the Sun

My portion of life

Lesser than theirs

Yet vivid lives