Greenhousing

I’ve Hardcastle Crags in my head.

We stopped short, remember?
Concerned about the failing light.

It must have been November
Or Feb.  Your birthday, or mine.

Already three months gone
And everything has changed.

The ground moves beneath us
At a gallop.  Seems it always will.

I’m running hard to keep from
Falling over.  Going nowhere.

If all’s well in four months time
We’ll book that place in Hebden.

Have a drink or two and dance
To your laptop in the kitchen.

Hardcastle Crags can go to Hell.