Thursday, 22 November 2012


Bit of a meloncholy one tonight; inspired by a winter's day.

November Sky

We live in a rain-drenched land.
Soggy sodden slips of cloud slowly
rise above the wind and fight to find
that last man standing.

Underfoot and overhead; tupperware sky,
the lid ajar. A stripe of light unhindered by
the depth of slate that
boxes us in.

A vein of sheep like aphids on a fresh
green leaf follow the one in front down
to the icy lake. Falling into tangled weed
set seed in summer.

This sparse sick land made deep and mean by
the weight of lead on hunched-up backs. Crunch
through frost and we connect again through the
shivering stream of scars.

That always leave their mark.