Stumbling Along

Slowly, heavy feet of lead stumble up the fell,
Staggering like a drunk at closing time he fell.
The earth swallowed him up and spit him back
And he blinked in the sun, lying motionless on his back.
The earth warmed his bones, still straining to hear
The sounds of comrades that had brought him here.
He gulped for fresh air, his throat burned with each swallow
and sweet dawn chorus pierced silence, blackbird and swallow.
Alone and abandoned, the drinker scrutinised the scene,
He lurched up the path, peering to be seen.
And the earth opened up and loam covered his face
And he imagined the censure he would ultimately face.
One step forwards, two to the side, the brown earth breaking his fall
As his balance deserted him by valley and waterfall.
Legs made of jelly and stomach brimming with moonshine,
Tears drained from his eyes as he stared up at the moon shine.
Water, earth, wind and fire swirling in his gut.

By Linda Prince