The Sun,
Winter’s welcome
stranger,
embraces even as
we lean to dusk,
offering an
amber kiss.
We slip
quickly from
Heaven's clasp,
descending through
pink nimbus
strewn towards the
far horizon.
Over
fallow field,
flooded fen,
above jigsaw
mudflats, shore,
ditch, hedgerow,
woodland, park.
As light
turns to dark,
rain-streaked
windows are
portals on
occasional ruinings
in brick and steel.
And when
chatter dulls as
pressure builds,
a hundred tales
prepare for telling -
that randomness
of runway stories.
YOU ARE READING
Fragments And Reflections
PoetryPoems looking at everything and anything not in my other collections. Here you'll find life and time, wild oceans and lonely coast paths, busy streets and empty hotel rooms, wild concerts and late night writing. All just fragments and reflections, l...
