The nocturnal downpour…
An expanse of rain
floods the corners of the night,
giving darkness sound.
(30/11/18)
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The hungry hills exposed by Winter…
Winter-burnished hill.
Ribs showing through the heather.
Rush-bearded farrows.
(23/11/18)
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Watching crows – again…
Black castanet rush,
clack-clacking conversations.
A clique of corvids.
(16/11/18)
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Working on a wood engraving of a stone wall…
“Cry stanza, my stone” *
Excavating stone sinews.
Each stone an island.
*Wallace Stevens
(09/11/18)
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November wind blowing golden leaves off birch trees…
Bright flurry of leaves,
a golden murmuration,
And rooks gathering.
(02/11/18)