Frejya

In the days
before shadows became long
I walked along the moors
with Cathy and Heathcliff,
somber spirits
fading in the Avalon mist,

gathered like small grey storms at my bare feet
Water and Corn Mint, the Knotted Pearlwort
I picked,
Bog Pimpernel cascaded from my flaxen hair,
Pyramidal Orchids fell from a
flaming sky,

I was young then, so very young
I touched the earth
long before I fell from grace,
long before the shining moon broke
my wooden bucket of light

the Lady of the Lake
turns the red tide out to sea,
we drown like fisherman or sailors,
forever lost beneath the rising sun.