I meant to say

How did the houses come to be here?
How did this square walled space enclose a world?
What did this fallen wall beneath bracken mean?
These cup marks in this stone?
This flat well-drained field grew?

Higher up on the ridge above the sea
The asphodel plain pulled at me
Tugged, like a fish first taken on a line.

Was I being dragged back into time past
Or pulling time with me like a plough?

The hen harrier hung in space
Seemed to topple
Then catch and imperious glide
Rise and tuck back down against the hill

Juvenile yet by its glowing breast
It carries time from the last ice age
And now pressed, hungry
Quartering and quartering this summer moorland spread
And me just a speck, a peck, a smidge of time.

Later in our cups S reminds me 66 is not a lot
That we are young and we’ll keep the sky aloft
Aye long with our willing, wind spilling song.

I wish, oh.
That the bird will still stalk the woven moor
That asphodel blooms, the creeping rose and more
That against all hope we’ll put this world to rights
That home and safe they are and we tonight.