Captains One Minute

They look for light on the moors,
Their dialogue is spent,

Puzzled pieces grouping,
The wind a looping moan

Tumbling through charcoal,
Breathing wintery shadows,

All seems lost and uneasy,
Ice whispers and frost,

Guessing through darkness,
Thoughts and landscape all riddled,

Nothing hills and reservoirs,
Snaking tracks and scattered birds,

The hum of pylons all consistent
As the nightmares start to stir.

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