Lightwood`s Fire

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0


Lightwood`s fire

In the height of summer

I sat under the mighty beech

with a warm breeze

stroking the lush ferns

and dispensing light relief

from the walk up.

Sitting on the stone surrounding the fire

I remind myself

of the age of the place

and my inconsequential nature

that feeling you get

when you are pleased to be alive

and take no living thing for granted.

My Buxton friends say this is a place

for wild camping; I trust them for their word.

The bridge in need of repair as it falls into the stream

the derelict old pump outhouse deeper into the valley.

A reservoir as once was, a place to escape the bustle now.

These images are for sketches, I have only words.

I fell for this place, though didn’t make it to the peak,

for the next trip for sure.

John Yates August 2014

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