on a dark road below a black hill headlamped vision gritty verge littered with insect road **** husk moth bodies beetle shell mud defiled ox-eye daisy dumb weight tramping the treadmill night day-shot with the memory of those lapwing hundreds wheeling in ascent to fall on folded wing and again gyre up to the brink of abandonment green silent fields away as when in advent there the hills rose up before me and the thirst for their awesome green
loth to return to that vortex drawn down ice-pocket ruts my city captive goes