My mother said I never should... (I.P)

There was smoke above the spinney,
I knew then they were there,
Despite my mothers warnings
I went down among the trees.

He caught my hand and shushed me,
“lookit ere” he darkly whispered,
Feral kittens spitting fire,
“ya could’na tame em, If ya tried,
Borned wild they are, like me”

Summer was forever, the world was ours alone.
We lived on fruit and trout and slept,
In the flicker of the fire.
One night He took me lamping,
The killing made me cry,
He pressed my forehead to his shoulder,
“shhh, tis only nature, an we eat t’ night”.

The apples were all gathered,
The hops were picked and dried,
His mother gave me heather,
“tis luck ya need my child “.

I found him in the meadow,
At the fading of the day,
He placed his palms upon my ears, as if,
That would soften words too hard to say.
“we’s goin back,... and ya canna come”
I could only hear my heartbeat...
as the words hit home.

That night the fire was roaring,
burning on my face,
My back was cold, but in the middle,
somewhere, I felt just right,
His sister’s singing, sad and low,
Carried through the darkness in the trees,
Like a spirit or an owl,
a lament, a prayer for me.

In the unforgiving morning,
Dark clouds and rain made dim,
A cold dark circle, black and charred
Is all that’s left of him.