February Mist

When fog hangs over us , as so often it does on the 300 ft contour , why are we always surprised to find a different day as we drop down into the valley? Entrenched, enshroudedIn mist so thick The sun,obscured devoid of lightDarkened boughs hang lowUnder the rain -filled cloudLanes stain redAs mud leachesAndContinue reading “February Mist”

Red Sky in Morning

The blush pink sky twists the forecastWrapping the clouds in ominous hueThere’s clarity in warningThe air is stillBirdsong is activeShrill cries of the blackbird cut throughToo sharp are the angulations of the fieldsCarving lines of clipped brown hedges with shards of goldAcid green are the fields Under the low winter sunTransient patterns About to changeContinue reading “Red Sky in Morning”