Mist In Fell Country Poem by Malcolm Evison

Mist mellows, swathes
the bracken waste, moves
mountains and retrieves

a shadow of their former state –
a throbbing sigh, veiled certainty.

Prey to this cold allure
the crag-fast fear subsides:
tamed by its achromatic spell
the enthralled mind contrives

a vision which can penetrate
the substance of the rock. Unlock
the memories of strange
remoter climes; time lost

in mystery, fusing the venerated
past with present vulnerability.

Mist swathes the bracken waste,
tastes history, mellows and moves
a range of fells, slowly retrieves

a shadow of their former state –
veiled certainty, a subdued sigh.