Bone Chilling
Winter sunlight on the fields
A murder calls in flight through misty yields
Banks of bracken smothered in shadow falls
Thunder through the valley calls
Stiffening muscles ache in winter chills
Footsteps path over wandering hills
Dark, crashing clouds seal the wild landscape view
The cold is here, it's come for you!
Hilltops darken as daylight fades
Mist settles in the valley as darkness cascades
The change of day into the night
Bleak feelings loom dreading deeper under fading light
A voice, a light in front, higher in the nothing view
Horizontal rain now blurring my weakened sight
The pull from sound and flicker of light
The roars of winds consume the night
I follow the light and muffled calls
I see the village lights flickering in the distant homes
I reach the gates of the village road
The cold, the rain, the dark as taken hold
I find the Inn of the Miners Arms
I find comfort in a pint close to flaming warmth
A local man asks me if I got caught in t' wild on t' hill after dark?
I nod to him and tell him of the flickering calls
He takes off his cap, leans in and I see pale fear in his eyes
I ask what's wrong and to my surprise
He whispers to me of what I saw:
One hundred years ago tonight
A miner died on t' hill in t' darkest night
Coming home from t' pit in a sudden and viscous storm
For him there was no one on t' hill who'd ever call
Copyright © A Yorkshire Poet | Year Posted 2016
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