Sweetest black briars and cloudberries grow

amid a hedge of May.

Blue rampion rises between the thorns.

Impenetrable

barbed

defence

from which

the stone tower rises.

Clinging to the land

stone upon stone

wild flowers in every groove.

Swallows in every cornerstone and

windows open to the night.

With the dusk

fleeting birds become pipistrelle

but always,

a life, flies from the stone.

Circling,

moving, shadows

cut the evening air.

She lies, flat

on knotted wool.

Ropes of flaxen coil around circular walls.

She watches the night fall

dropping ripe berries into her awaiting mouth.

Deep blood red juices

run down her cheek

and the Northern Lights

ripple across the sky.

Dej Aug 09