The Walk Home ©

I remember dark country roads,
Hollow footsteps pacing time
Under the railway bridge,
Grass-edged pathways
Melting into oblivion,
That outer-edge nostalgia.
My soul memory of schoolbags,
Homework heavy, slapping gaberdine.
Me and the darkness as one.

Black feathered woods
Swayed the skyline
menacing the breeze.
A sheep's cough warped the silence
And rushing water from a hidden burn
gurgled for breath.
A bat tugged my hair on its fly-pass,
A rustle in the long grass
Tolled a rodent's death bell.

In the distance
Square yellow beacons
Danced a ghostly jig
Under skirts of corrugated iron roofs
That shone in the moonlight.
They were my lighthouse
In a stormy sea of blackness.
They were my passage home.
Me and the darkness as one.