Borrowdale by moonlight
From my sequence about Constable in Borrowdale
Borrowdale by moonlight
Stand in the moist grass at dusk
sniffing the cool air, and listen.
Beyond Stonethwaite an owl hoots
and on the fell a single sheep is bleating.
Watch for a long time as the pale moon
in her last quarter slowly climbs.
She is a lonely companion
to three grey-green mountains,
their craggy outlines and crannies
softened by shadow, soothed
by the movement of a brush.
The sky is pearly pink; mist rises
from the silver water. No clock ticks.
This is the evening hush.
