The Stroll - Gertrude Abercrombie 1943

it's easy to imagine the moon fell out of the sky but no, it's still up there, where it's always been I look around to see what chases me; nothing moves... but the tree stands still with the mocking pose of a monster about to shout "boo!" it's ethereal moonlight I should feel bathed in it everything around me is but I cast my shadow at my feet and above my head the cloud, my familiar... holding steady with my pace as if on a lead I feel sure I'm walking the same small stretch of path over and over perhaps I can walk off the darkness and it can join the night sky where it should be I've clearly stolen the night absorbed its essence the night stays impossibly light my companion leads the way heading nowhere but with purposeful stride no one need know from looking that we are figments of our own imagination drawn from spare bits of coagulated night the mood will disperse perhaps I'll turn out to be real there's maybe even a big reveal and under the cloak is pure joy trapped and raring to go I just need to happen upon some knowledge something that makes all the pieces slide into place 'ahh' I'll say and I'll leave the cloak where I stand give the cat a map and off we'll go we won't sleep when the sun shines we'll dance and the rock can be thrown at the cloud and the tree turned upside down to walk away I'll walk a different path it'll be unrecognisable