CASTLE GARDEN

MOSS

Below the crag wall

a moss-deep world

 

it cushions nettles,

briar, milk-thistle

 

moss crouches 

silent as breath

 

shy and trailing, behind

the water-spout trickle

 

haps the stone sea-monster

asleep in green velveteen

 

moss lays-bare

times passage

 

muffles footsteps

from centuries past

 

buries whale bones,

imagines oceans.

Poetry copyright © Frances Ainslie 2021