Gateway

 A poem written on a recent holiday to the Llyn Peninsular, where we stayed in a cottage on top of the cliffs overlooking Porth Neigwl, also known as 'Hell's Mouth Bay'. A region so loved by R S Thomas. The photo is sunset behind Ynys Enlli.

Gateway

Something loosened

knots unravelled

a sluicegate gave way

 

as I watched the new moon sink

over the settled sea

of Hell’s Mouth bay.

 

A curlew call pierced the air

from another place

far across the silence

 

a linnets’ chorus scattered

sharp sparks of song all over

the stark hedges of top field....

 

This, followed close by 

the click of cogs settling       inside    me.

Light flickered as

 

crowds of starlings arrived on telegraph wires

and covered the field in spangled wings,

prattling marauders, picking from the ground,

 

their meals enriched

from the leavings of grazing sheep

and Charolais cattle who stare with gentle eyes.

 

In the dunes of Porth Neigwl

we watched a stonechat flit

among bramble briars

 

it’s flirty mate chanting

a call like turning metal cogs...

clickclick peep clickclick peep

 

and later, in the dusky dark of top field

I leant on the farm gate

and looked to the shadow of Ynys Enlli

 

where that slender mooncrescent of gold

slid into the sea

and something inside me

slipped

into place.