Anglezarke

I see almost no one, on a good day None, no single person breaks My silence, stirs my solitude, disrupts My quietness. Those I see, With a bonhomie born Of slight resentment, I salute. I am here with the clouds and the rain And the occasional, unaccustomed Light, filtering through damp skies, With the sheep and the curlew And the weasel that scurries, Bracken to bracken, over The wet and gleaming road: I am here, alone and accompanied, Where and with whom I choose to be