Malverns
We start from the north end,
hearts and lungs weighted down
as we climb hard between scree,
emerge above low cloud
that smudges the backdrop
and recasts the landscape.
The curves of the hills
snake onwards in stately
perspective through the fog.
East, England’s farms
lie flat. Light mist rolls
like smoke on battlefields.
West, old mountains
are lost in fresh swirling
ranges built in the air.
Our footsteps skip
through the sky but two heavy
transport planes from Brize Norton
give bone perspective,
disturb birds. The tops of rooks’
heads and wings glide beneath us.
This new world – its fake mountains,
upside-down birds and smeared views –
thins our blood, drains our thoughts.
About the Author: Michael Hurst’s writing has been published by The Fiction Desk, Ellipsis Zine, Gemini, GWN and Stroud Short Stories. He lives in Gloucestershire with his wife and daughter.
Image Credit: Detroit Publishing Co. “Ivy Scar Rock, Malvern, England” Public domain image courtesy of the Library of Congress
As It Ought To Be 