Mist upon the ridgeway ...

This week I watched Ava DuVernay's Selma - I perched upon my seat of quirky springs - I forgot that I was in gentle Wareham - 

I was face to face with state troopers upon Petus Bridge - I smelt the scent of white flowers upon a casket - 

I remembered Coretta's words yesterday about the fog of death - 

We were walking the ridgeway, under a cloudless shining sky -

Anne had just had just heard about Bob - 

We'd gone dressed as pirates to his party - 

I looked out towards the sea - death wasn't a fog, I thought - it was a shining bluish mist - I could see figures moving inside it - 

I wondered how long it would take for this mist to cover the bright land, to hide the withy beds, to lap the stone circle - 

South Dorset Ridgeway 

Above Portisham

12.00

Wednesday 18 March 2015