Categories
Poetry

Glad of Stars

Crisp the air
That meets this eve.
Trees stand bare
Reflecting the glint.
I look above glad of stars.
Sky free the drape of sombre mist.
Like seeing good friends I pause and stare.
The light they cast seems to flare.
Dancing figures across the canopy
Inspiring me to join them there.

Although it is rainy again here – this was written on a night when the clouds parted and I saw stars for what felt like the first time in weeks.

I am short sighted and one of the more pleasant things about it is stars are not points of light to me – they appear as figures that flicker as if dancing in the night sky. (Yes I know – when lockdown ends I will get my eye sight tested.)

Categories
Poetry

Last Morning of Summer

The land is kissed,

With clouds of mist.

The last day,

Of summer begins.

Amber edged trees,

Dance in the breeze.

A chill edge,

Flows over bare skin.