Under the Moon

Turn through the gate

And you’ll be at Peace Field

A meadow, full of knee-high, soft, wild grasses

Mixed with blues of corn flowers

Yellows of buttercups

Purple ragged-robins

And browns and whites

Of butterflies and moths

On your left a mown path

Winding through the orchard

Still holding pink blossom

On spreading boughs


To the right, in the corner

Look for the chimney pipe

An L-shaped black metal tube

With a solar panel by its side

It is a round structure of canvas

Stretched on a lattice frame

Green cover pulled tight

Sitting on a level wooden platform

With table and chairs to match

It has a near perfect heart-shaped window cut in the door

Which is close enough to perfect

Clichéd as it sounds


A hedge thick with brambles

Runs beside it

Gives shelter from the east

When winter winds blows in.


If you come by night

When the moon is full

Owls will call you on

Glow-worms light the path

You’ll smell apple wood smoke

Burning in the stove

Bring nothing

Just your book of spells


n.b. This is a real place. Precise directions omitted for obvious reasons. A yurt can only accommodate so many poets and witches; but oh! so many.

  Day 2 prompt: a place.


02/04/2020 Christopher Perry