and then, when the sluggish earth winds down,
when the wild copper sun streams into the sea,
when the night creeps in like a timid guest
then, beneath the scraps of cloud,
as the air stiffens with the last chirps of the crickets
as the scent of autumn seeps like a charm into my veins
and the still-warm twilight twists about my limbs
when the brush of a dying ladybird on my forearm
or the dry ivy leaf combing my shoulder
is itchy as elf-fingers as I pass, when the shuffling hedgehog
circles the lawn and the first drift of leaves
crumbles beneath our shoes, when the mouse-eyed
elderberries droop, black bubbles in the ripple of moonlight,
and the night’s grey dust dampens the rosehips
and snags among the blood-red haws
then, we will step through the dandelion clocks,
through the lazy cobwebs, through the sleepy moths,
and we will dance, my love – my love, we will dance
and then we will dance as the slow earth turns
Yorkshirewoman Louise Wilford has had over 100 poems and short stories published and has won or been shortlisted for several competitions, most recently the £750 Arts Quarterly Prize and the MereFest Poetry Prize. She is currently nearing the end of a Masters degree in Creative Writing with the Open University, and is currently working on a novel inspired by The Tempest, while trying to process why the world appears to be falling apart.
Foxglove Journal 