Caravans on a Hill

Up past caravans on a hill

We are the siesta and the thrill

We waver with the sea and all the while I wonder

Is it just you and is it just me?

We sail on this caravel

There's no land until Scandinavia

We are diluvian, elusive like a filly is

Fled, between boulders to the edge of reverence

The headlands start to fall

Now I'm buried in the loam

The headlands start to call out to me

I'm in the gloam

It's not that you've gone without thought

In fact the exact opposite

You're stratified in me

And my limbs shame, a misstep on the scree

I'm only here, right beside you

I used to be so good

And now I'm so scared of it