January Small Stones #2


A Pint, after revelations
to re-fuse our disconnected


A silver snake, slithering down
through complex Moorland patchworks;
Brown Bracken, yellow Grass.

Black Cows standing on mounds,
proud like the bare trees beside them.

Deep fog rolling off the pines,
But that’s where I am going.


Single, Silver, Solitary Sentinel.


Brown organs grow out of the tree, flesh hanging down, pouches for small mammals to tumble out of still in their foetal  form.

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