Wuthering Heights

I wandered across the moor,

Intrigue guiding my heavy steps,

And history and memories pushed my journey on.

The ghosts of Kathy and Helathcliff flew above me all around

And they laughed and danced in the night sky,

Scars hidden in animated death.

 

The mist was not lifting

And the air was cold and damp

And in the brightest moonlight

The three headstones rose silently from the earth.

The middle one was grey, and half buried in the heath,

The second was half hidden and moss was creeping up its foot.

The third was large and frightening and noticeably still bare.

 

I sat and listened mesmerised as the ghosts made known their pain,

And the moths fluttered among the heath,

And the wind breathed through the grass,

And wondered how peaceful slumbers

Would ever be for the sleepers in that quiet earth.