‘Walking with Rilke’ by Linda France – Resurgence Prize, Highly Commended

When, after a day of rain, evening light
plucks us out of the four-square house to rinse
our screen-bleached faces and it takes a while
to adjust then notice grass heads leaning
into each other like our shadows far
off to the south intent on their own
attenuated adventure woven
between sheep, recently shorn and skittish,
wild raspberries asking to be eaten,
so we do, our actual mouths drenched with pink,

isn’t it love, these mutual solitudes –
the loneliness of all things and their hard
edges held safe like knives, side by side,
mirrored with you’d-have-the-word-for-it light?