It’s 3 am on Moorland Road

The lamplight strips the scene

A trail of blood and bottles

Shows where the tribe has been

A fox shakes his head from the alley

and slowly takes his bow

It’s 3 am on Moorland Road

How dark is Kelston now?

 

How dark is the night on the hillside?

How dark on the lonely track?

How dark in the woods on the valley edge?

How dark on the Camel’s back?

 

A breeze moves the grass on the western approach,

a pebble shifts its weight,

the fence posts stretch out in the darkness,

to carry the broken gate.

The dark and stillness triumph, as much as man allows

Its 3am on Moorland Road

How dark is Kelston now?

by Jon Hamp, 2016