And the moor drew back,
and away, up
into the mountainside.
Away from the alien
in its midst.
Where the armchair squatted
the moor was thin
(keep back, it’s alien)
and the armchair sat
staring at an absent t.v.
The wind eddied to avoid
disturbing the dust mites.
The armchair sat, unconcerned
infront of the mountain’s armpit
where the moor was gathering,
staring and scared
whispering
between bilberries and heather
“Beware! Beware! The alien is here.”
***
Copyright © 2001 Elizabeth Cutts
***
This poem is over ten years old and in fact I think it was inspired by a photo of a dumped armchair on a mountainside that I took when I was a child. It’s silly, but it makes me smile and while I don’t think it’s a great poem it has pleasant memories attached.
Libby Scribbles 