It was sultry, and the moss beneath my feet
Felt like it was choking.
Across the valley, penned under an airless sun,
The marshes slugged their green and gold as evening fell.
I walked unwitting into a cloud of flies:
Cloaked me in velvet, thick, black, terrible,
Soft winged, heavy, fizzing the still sky,
Still dumb and blunt.
They breathed as one black lung
(me in the middle breathless)
Swooned and surged on rank bracken -
Their sweet moonshine - steeped nine months
Between the rocks
And the dank moss beneath my feet.
=== by me ===