On a balmy night a star appeared somewhat early
Into the fading day light she fell through the fork of a tree
Like a grain of barley against the sky, and there she hanged,
Calling for the night to give her luminance.
Under that same tree, a woman thought
She could just start walking against the mild breeze
Shut the door and without locking it
Straddle past the locked cars without suitcases or passports
through the run down streets of Victorian Erdington
Where night traders light up their cigarettes to cheer her on
And a polite man with a rucksack says hello
Listening to his accent that sounds familiar she carries on
To the narrow street where a car stops and talks to a woman in a pencil skirt
and the woman answers back in the foreign language our woman understands.
Our woman’s walk is urgent but without fear because she’s rehearsed it many times.
Hundreds of miles feel only as hours
Dartfort Crossing, Dover, Calais….
Their lorries and sea containers are insignificant
Belgian flatness and passing clouds do not stir her
She does not care about flower baskets on the motel entrances
Or the misty rain that shrouds her shoulders
From the grassy road verges, she skims over the beauty of Brugge
She suddenly sees the world for what it is – an illuminated snake
More dazzling and meandering than any star!
But then she spots the Moselle river
That schemes around the hills like a friendly snake
The scent of honey and golden grapes is unmistakable
She rests her head between the Riesling vines,
And, without any bed, she sleeps a comfortable sleep
Under the tree with a branch like a fork.
And a star, that has always been there continues to keep her company,
Regardless of her staying in a foreign land or returning home
passing Erdington, Dover, Calais, Moselle and Sait George,
or even stopping in a vineyard half-way though….
The star that does not move, yet follows her every move,
is asking for more Luminance.