Bedern. Midnight geese.
A place of alleyways
and turnings back,
each blocked
with drifts of shadow
black as soot.
Moonlight streams between
tall cliffs of brick,
paints windows slick
with silver.
Caught in the city’s underglow
a dozen greylags flicker overhead,
no higher than the housetops.
They call into the night –
a husky, booming note
breathy as a blown reed.
Ian Stuart is a writer/performer living and working in York. He has had worked published in several outlets including Dream Catcher and Aesthetica He can be contacted on Twitter at @yorkwriter99.