She runs like the dogs, digging her hands
deep within tussocks as she tugs herself forward.
The world's not right tonight, no doubt of that,
but I cannot - will not - accept the facts
my eyes report: lies! Lies and schemes
to make me think I've gone insane. Stop, words!"
surging her up to the summit line.
hug the Marshlands, my home is there ... so trust
what you know, not what you've seen, or felt, or heard."
the limp of her limbs lurching her higher.
Look! Just a few more steps and then I'll hit
the top; I'll see the marsh, the sun half-sliced
by the sea and Dungeness and this will seem -"
A shaft of light shatters on her face
your teeth and push, push, push for your life!"
and she falls, fractures, fissions, dissolves
and sinks into the soil - a silhouette, a shadow,
a space, a moment, a memory ... gone.