Twist and weave to the moon’s silver - night is
White and a storm gather her pace. Flash. Green bulbs
Memory, cracks the grapes blue on the vine and the vielle
dam dances to the tune of the sea, in an unlit room
The bridges are all on fire, explosions of silence. Calm
Over the ridges the clouds loom grey the wasps, waspish
A boom of thunder erupts the field vanishes to snow. Flash.
The torch of desire breathes. Moonlight on the raspberries.
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Charlie Baylis lives and works in Nottingham, England. He reviews poetry for Stride. His own writing has appeared most recently in Litro, Boston Poetry and Agave. He spends his spare time completely adrift of reality and tumbles, sporadically, here.
