Moon rises over the occupied privy
A mountain barrier to the inflow of the dark tide,
Sail Mhor, the round lump,
sits beneath the force
of the full moon , a full stop.
No more watching, expecting change:
this is all there is,
or will be. The wet pelt
of the muscled beast lies still,
silkily silvered by moonlight,
wrapping the shore. Callum shifts
his position, avoiding cramp,
breathing mist, as the transient
world solidifies, dew condensing
on the grass.
Copyright © Colin Crewdson 2016
I live now in Devon, but have lived in many other places. My career has been osteopathy, built on the back of many other things. I’ve never had anything published before.