Walking from Roughside

Atop the crags over abandoned quarry shafts
with a view towards Smales a stone farmhouse further
a short-eared owl swooping to stop further approach
towards owlets out of their nest on Roughside moor.
Near Toddy’s Rigg overlooking the Cleugh below
poor moorland grazing fit only for a few sheep
but pasture for cows in a field near the Bower.
Everywhere open to wide skies conifers only knee high
Plantations newly plowed would one day hide the sky.
Descending the steep slope to the banks of the Cleugh
on sunny days though grass was dry to lie upon
its roots were damp with dew if your fingers felt there
sound didn’t carry once you stepped over the edge
down among memories of what happened before
towards a gnarled and stunted leafless tree bereft
by the banks of a stream running through a ravine
past an untended spring aware only of silence

Richard M Russell (C) Dick Russell
                  August 15, 2022

 A Valentine In August

I’d like to dance with you right now
awhirl you in my arms 
do the dance we did so well
hug you ever closer
the dance we did before
I’d like to dance with you right now
and hug you ever closer
though you would not feel the swell
we’d dance in step together
never far apart
closer than we’ve ever been
not pricked or poked apart
just dancing in my arms again
along with this refrain
there’s no tool like an old fool
if you raise your leg to the bar


Richard M Russell © Dick Russell
                  August 2022

 Song

I’m open to 
being friends again 
if you want 

I don’t mind if
we continue war
if you can’t
I shan’t mind it
out-living you, no
Sis I shan’t
I shan’t mind it
you can stomp my grave
all you want


Richard M Russell © Dick Russell
                    July 26, 2022

 Threads

Were I to dance on the fabric of fate?
flimsy stuff made of far future threads
threads into time which arrive too late
because another executed instead. 

Were I to fall into entanglements far below?
question connections
interrogations 
situations
none could follow.
Were I to find a way in through the way out?
sure she gave me a thread 
I used my brain instead
came out by a back door 
burdened with clout.
For I’d met a monster on the inside
I’d had to slay because it was in the play
where I needed to come out
victorious, or there’d be no 
upside.
Were I to learn to live with cells grown old?
could they be refreshed given more time?
What else should I to ponder as I strain to hold
a kettle to the kitchen tap
then let it overload 

and splash


Richard M. Russell © Dick Russell
                          July 23, 2022

 The Ides of July

It was autumn when 
summer faded into spring
we missed a hard winter
the ground was still hard
good to trudge more topsoil to the beds
past early blueberries about to flower
down to the raspberry canes
and big raised beds for cucumbers 
that need manure
then parsnips for the winter roasts
it used to be April now it’s March
when the first daffodils drooped
their beauty spent
mountain beavers moved their burrow
to another neighbor’s land
and now the year has turned again
we can see the end of summer

Richard M Russell © Dick Russell
            July 15, 2022