Wind over Langsett

Langsett and Midhope

Wind over Langsett

So much is known by the wind
that scours the moors, exposes stones,
buried bones, grey heather roots
in blackened peat, half-hidden
high explosive quietly rusting;

so much is worked on – traces
of old tank tracks erased,
new growth of chancing trees
stunted, sparse;

so much time
hurling its might against
the stone-worked dam,
tumbled walls of North America Farm
shattered by practice fire;

so much of stripped surfaces,
skinned back to bare frames –
barns, workers’ huts,
plane carcases’ shredded fuselage
left to rot, sink in the acid soil;

so much recalled
of nights of bombers’ moons,
burning skies’ orange glow –
Sheffield terraces, factories,

so much weight is carried –
drone of planes
letting loose their loads,
their banking turns over Hartcliffe
to make one last drop.

Sue Riley