be calmed

a trawler cut stillness
bisected mouth river calm
silent sleekness
shushed noise like snow
in a serene Selenic blanket

the non-witch watched moonlit
from a haven once devil craft wound
by a priest’s words so long ago
now trans, would witch-hood be suspected
by many, and many not

coming here like a bewitchment
fleeing The Holy Mountain for life
hooked by a moon driven east-easterly into,
to childhood eyes’ cream of the watch
only later a thought to dark vulnerabilities

the trawler cut stillness
under a stark moon’s revelation
and she sat, ignoring the call
to walk to the lighthouse (locked)
toward her father, whispers her heart

this not the first time
she has felt this wish
to come, sit, to go there
an expectation she’d round
it’s base and find him

echo twist perhaps
on childhood games
walking the pier, threeish,
he hip replaced
learning to walk again

always at heart
missed

none of this more
than what it is
it is

A. H / K. H-H (26th March 2020)