Kenneth Hickey

Wuthering Heights

For Emily Bronte 1818-1848

She slips in through the shuttered window

The silver ghost of a giddy girl he hasn't seen

Since he's lived on the moors before

They take long silent walks again

Beneath the weather like olden days

Across the flooded moors

The base rock breaking through in patches

Eruptions of the elemental

'Tis sentimental

And now he's howling at the moon

His lover dying ripped away

They cannot be at peace they say

The giant stares across the stone

With eyes of burning coals so bright

Through the darkness through the light

To where the poet stands alone

Shining light and shimmering sea

Beneath the broken trees

I cannot live without my soul!

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