This year, when it rains, it really rains…
The rain’s own alchemy
turns holes to pools; paths to streams;
and air to water.
(31/07/20)
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Rain and humidity…
The air’s like sphagnum,
vegetation softly drips.
Spiders set mist nets.
(24/07/20)
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Calm morning…
Burnished bronze, the Bay,
offering no reflection.
Keeping its secrets.
(17/07/20)
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Dawn chorus – of corvids…
Crow conversations,
their rough, guttural language.
Sweet sounds from the thrush.
(10/07/20)
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Dark, still nights…
Velvet-textured dark
both fills and empties the night,
leaving only sound.
(03/07/20)