Green Man
Dyn Gwyrdd yn y mynyddoedd;
Green Man in the mountains.
He sat smiling, holding our secrets,
While we lazed and stretched under the trees.
Among the hills in burning sun or lashing rain—
We drank beer and danced all the same.
Heaving hive of colours, bright.
Tie dye shorts, pink fishnet tights,
Patterned ponchos and fairy lights.
Long fluttering skirts, mud-deep boots,
Bucket hats and unkempt hairdos.
Hips unstill, hands stretched high,
Closed eyes, delight, as bass hummed
Through our chests, our minds.
Four days of sanctuary, of joy untimed,
Then Green Man burned and we returned
To our lives.
To a world with different rules
Of what counts as sleeping or as clean shoes.
After two years of silence, alone at home,
We each rediscovered scraps of our souls
Swaying in the mountains among twilight shoals
Of silhouettes we did not know.
Caitlin Saunders 