Witches Knickers.

Should you ever care to walk, or dare

some length of Emperor Hadrian’s Wall,

it is advised, by Roman Legionnaires

and other hardy souls in the know,

to lay your best foot down way out

in the west & march

into the east.

The wind, a constant howl

across Northumbria,

will be at your back

and at least

you will sail.

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a constant westerly

sabres

the north-east.

The witches barely

make good their escape.

 

 

Witches knickers

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Witches’ Knickers

The sky is bigger, better, here.

It settles in the treetops. Stretches

across a distant pencil line –

from left to right. Such detail!

Black-faced sheep, blue numbered backs

and flat sheets of silvered water.

Collected rain and orange leaves. Horses

of many hands, alone, in the field.

They are intent on something.

I can taste the birch tree bark. Hear

the orange five-bar flake. Beyond

the gate, a caravan collapses with

quiet dignity at the margin. Rotting 

fox, riddled with life. Ravens

on the rolling sky. Turning

like so much rubbish. Bags –

witches’ knickers! Snagged!

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8 thoughts on “Witches Knickers.

  1. Ha ha Nick … I never thought of them as witches knickers … that is quite clever of you. We have a lot of witches knickers here as people get their goods and simply let those lightweight bags just fly – they’re light as a feather and it’s not too good for the environment either, but they do snag onto those bare trees. Thanks for following my blog – I have followed you back as well. – Linda

    Liked by 1 person

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