The new way home

Climbing the lane together

September suppertime snuff

out of light children soon scatter 

aggregate under foot rough

and reassuring on the steep way home.

Taste of shank and IPA lingers, oozes 

a stolidity welcome to thighs and calves 

tested in the press on up. Home – 

is somewhere new now stashes a fizz 

of disquiet about its comforts

glances measure the feel of seeing

‘is this ours’ and ‘are we its’ ask eyes, 

furtive. Reaching the peak of the rise 

a startle – unexpected dazzle 

planets, moon, stars

rob blind breaths and hearts 

in ink blots thoughts bloom

– Minoans and Myceneans

populating Greek Islands with dreams

of Olympus each night in astral robes

celestials bent close, beautiful and ruthless 

– childhood holidays at beaches 

bonfires and sand driftwood seats 

night sky ceilings dwarfing oceans

potatoes blanketed in foil, us 

in rugs, in salt and smoke all.

Arrive home to Wednesday evening

someplace new and strange and familiar

where people and dogs walk calm 

through skies beguiled with eyes 

open and legs strengthen fast

to tougher ground. At home amongst paths 

of distant heroes and near stars 

that blossom in darkness

and fork back, towards sandcastles.