by Jane Lovell
Light spills both ways:
silhouetting stands of blackthorn on the lane
and climbing the slow hill, striping the turf, its grey horse
racing a big sky.
Along the line of the fence, a ghost owl flies on silent wing
while the weasel creeps to her nest.
The weasel creeps to her nest without brushing a leaf,
breathing its pinbone mess of pellet and fur.
Darkling beetles steady at rustle and hiss, wait
for the long yolk falling.
Along the line of the fence, the ghost owl flies to her nest,
early light tracing the edge of her wing in each direction.
Her ears pinpoint sound in delay; last night’s start
and patter, her hunger, buried in the fall of rain.
She disappears from sight, leaving her silence
and a glimmer of wire.
In the hedge, something woven from air and tats of down
is staring, its flyblown carcass stirring as if waking.
Earth resumes its humming; celandine secures the verge.
On the hill, the horse stoops to graze.
Previously published in Elementum, Edition 4
Jane Lovell has been widely published in journals and anthologies. She has won the Flambard Prize and been shortlisted for several awards including the Basil Bunting Prize, the Robert Graves Prize and the Periplum Book Award. Her most recent publication is Metastatic from Against the Grain Poetry Press. In 2018, Jane won the Coast to Coast to Coast Portfolio Prize, the Wealden Literary Festival Writing Prize, the Terrain.org Poetry Contest and the Wigtown Poetry Prize.