Pink of willowherb
and white of meadowsweet
line the road to Bezza Brook.
Where you cross at Bezza Bridge
step down, step down, step down
in the incantation of the strange-light
hear the brook’s flow see the spirits stream
on the walls of the tunnel of life.
Dwell not on the tunnel of death
lest you hear the Skriker skrike.
Do not look for a rag on the wind
or an eye in the midst of the strange-light.