I returned home on this morning <br />After a superbly convivial evening <br />To attack my burgeoning woodpile <br />With a very…very sharp axe. <br />Nice. <br />Therapy. <br />Especially as the morning mist <br />Combines with the heady scent of sap <br />Sharpening my senses. <br /> <br />With satisfyingly aching arms <br />Boots go on and off to the moor. <br />Relentlessly onward, upward, skyward. <br />Another spectrum of greens through browns to black. <br />Ominous crags tower demonically <br />While streams cascade to wash their untold sins away. <br />In the rough beside me lay pristine white bunkers. <br />The top, Chew Reservoir, brew. <br />Visibility dwindles to next to nothing. <br />Legs like lead and head in the clouds. <br /> <br />Not a soul. <br />Not a sound. <br />Priceless. <br /> <br />Descent and the sky hangs perilously. <br />Recrossing the snowline and my vista returns. <br />Myopia incarnate saw fit to strew <br />Plastic bottles here and there. <br />I curse forcefully yet silently. <br />Impossible light colours all I see. <br />The trees come back bringing a few degrees of warmth with them. <br />I can almost see my house from here! <br />The gradient levels and people appear <br />Strolling around Dovestone Reservoir. <br />I consider myself blessed <br />With fitness to see what I saw. <br />On my return home <br />The savage beauty of the day <br />Fills me with warmth.<br /><br />Esra Sloblock<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/saddleworth-moor-and-more/
