August end holiday
the cloud rises late from the hills
as summer kisses autumn.
Leaving the Roman Road
over the Dale Top
we dip into a shallow valley
of rivulets hiding and giggling
in a game a hide and seek
between the green.
Words are pools
winking eyes
with a world of children
gazing upwards
drawing menageries from the sky.
Our old dog, ears surprised
by the salt cold of water
points her once copper muzzle down.
As if her eyes see
dog reflecting god
she springs in a beat
and follows a slow
canter down the hill
thumping out the thought
‘While I have nose and
a leg for each element
the source runs through me.
I’ll be on the otherside of the pool
by winter.’