The Walk

Icy air made faces pink as they meandered across the moor
soft steep hills made wild hearts leap
bracken broke, heather sighed against the hillside floor
nature stirred inside him and
stealing her a glance
he spotted a colony of granite rocks
her movement a mystical dance
in rhythm he pushed her against the stone
she caught her breath, her eyes shone
surrendered to her father, her lover, her husband, her son
as they together again became one.

His kisses tasted of meadow rain
as he pushed inside her soul
her back chafed against the rocks 
which she didn't feel at all
in this moment, she was young
lithe and carefree
gathering up their soggy clothes
they hugged as lovers do
and wondered slowly down the hill
refreshed, atoned, renewed.






Copyright S Rigg 2012





I wrote this at the height of a passionate relationship as I contemplated how passion creates feelings of youth and vitality even when the reality is quite different.