LEAP

There is a path
hewn heavy into misty moorland
canopied in craven sighs of winter pines
where invisible wings flap
and the voices of birds lament
in one note dirges.

Shadows of a broken soul
skim, dance elusive in
the rustle of yesterday's fallen leaves.
Yesteryear's fallen dreams.

Parched heart but desiccated dust
as cliff high zephyrs tear, tease
at the edge of reason
Then hung hopeless, drawn dry
and finally quartered to the four winds
she is flung heaving heavenward
before plummeting sobless
secret and forever silenced.

Crushed, bone upon lichened rock
Crashed, foam in furious churn
Dashed, all hope for ever after.

And the gulls' cries echo round the bay
remembering maiden madness
one perfect evening
when stars reeled conspiratorial
and Devon sea swallowed a fireball
to forever put out the light.