wind swept

– * –

high above the town – birds

a tree covered with ivy

chattering excitedly

silent clouds scud overhead

sweeping dried leaves from the sky

– * –

The last day of August, 2014.

At twilight, before the horizon, the late summer sun sets behind a bank of cloud.

Over Mont St. Michel, the sky is clear, save an occasional floc that drifts on the wind.

As the light fades, numerous flocks of birds rise from the grassy tidal plains, alighting in the same tree,

looking down on the small commercial centre still buzzing with people.

Thank you for dropping by and taking the time to read my work

if you should feel inclined, please feel free to leave your mark and

comment here


the black hills

– * –

this Autumn morning

where lies the first light of dawn

behind a black hill

darkness crowds at a window

concealing a golden light

– * –

all through these woodlands

have I not been here before

where all these paths lead

but still should I not explore

the far reaches of my heart

– * –

where once we walked

the wind racing through pine needles

light! dancing shadows

a dog chasing the red fox

what courses these memories?

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