The Ghost of a Ringtail

 

The moor was bright with wisps of mist,

And floating cotton grass in down.

The pipits pointed skyward wired.

So light the sun, so still the moor.

 

With pivot, dart and kiting wings,

The ringtail took the northern ridge.

She filled the widest sky with sight.

So light the sun, so still the moor.

 

Forever had her line owned flight,

And now the last in phantom form,

Eternal drifting beauty’s spell:

Though lost to life she haunts the hills,

 

The emptiness and quartered grounds,

So light the sun, so still the moor.

 

This summer, within sight of my home, one of my country’s rarest and most beautiful birds was shot – possibly by someone in the employ of a local landowner.  I despair of our species, I really do.

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3 Comments to “The Ghost of a Ringtail”

  1. A fitting tribute. In your despair, beauty is found, be it however fleeting and terrible. Thanks for sharing this.

  2. This is such a magical poem. The way you describe the phantom and her form is a delight!

  3. It’s so nice to read a metered and rhyming poem, my favourite but not so popular these days. I like the repetition of
    “So light the sun, so still the moor” it impacts this sad story. Why is man so intent on destroying nature?

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