The Brontë Falls

By -
To get to know a part of the land
you need to feel the water 
With your skin,
I said
And we put our bare feet, our hands;
blood lines cut from bramble
stinging with the touch,
into the bronze-tinted water of the hills -
a cold incarnation of its ancient self.

We washed off the mud of sunken soil,
with the source's own water,
coin-like and tumbled down from
the white stone heights of the moors.
See? I said
as we felt the ritual of the wanderer,
the sisters -
This is the starting point for stories.


C. LJ Ireton 2024 (To Stacey)

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