The Owl Service

The road is long and made of sand and grit
The tees loom up against the sky
The turnip moon makes a song of the lake
And all I know is heartache

The night is a tender velvet cloak
Lines in mist edged in starlight
The waters rise and threaten to drown the shore
A boat to cross the water what I long for

animals darkness and trees
Between me and where I live