‘In the North’ by Natalie Wildgoose.

In the North,
The fog runs off,
The moorside that closes above us

A sodden walk,
Along the wharf,
Where the lamplight glows and the dark sky brews where the sheep lie,

There’s a grouse in the heather, a wild deer in the beck,
Up here in the dark tangled moorland,
And tomorrow I’ll be back in the city again,
Where old age will hurry me to you.

You were transfigured, at what you’d found,
Out of your uniform, embraced the spare, the new,
Strange now you’re under ground.

You’re with the grouse in the heather, the wild deer in the beck,
Up here in the dark tangled moorland,
And tomorrow I’ll be back in the city again,
Where old age will hurry me forward.

Nearly happy again, in the winter night rain,
With the hillsides and woods, saw the grave where we stood,
You said the future looks good, in the north.