on a dark road
below a black hill
headlamped vision
gritty verge littered
with insect road kill
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