Samhain Slopes

Into the West, the dark downhill,
where Beech and Ash dieback into each other;
A composting, walking over the threshold,
deepening.
I have been here so often
darkness knows my name, 
says ‘Hello;
clouds block the sun,
wind shakes our ancestor’s messages
through the canopy, into our hair. 
“You don’t have to walk any further
down the Samhain slopes.
You are plenty in the dark downhill; 
turn upwards into your true north”. 



Viv Grant ©