November ’09


Crackling with rooks,
Winter trees reverberate
with ragged, black fruit.



Phew! Wild winds, deep, torrential floods, brief gaps of white sunlight glittering off the pools and wet everything. All-powerful Winter.


Chimneys thrum rhythm,
the roof tiles tattoo the beat,
wires pluck harmonics,

every gap sings out,
the whole house is becoming
a wind instrument.



Crazy weather for weeks. Regular, heavy rain interspersed by capricious winds. Garden furniture flung around the lawns by polter-gusts, flagstones slick with unseen mosses, trees stripped and battered. Cows stand, arse to ditch. Clothes hang, heavy-limbed on a drooping, dripping line.

Towels, shirts, trousers
hang, sodden and un-moving
hours and hours on end.

Sudden excitement!
The wind whips up a frenzy,
flailing arms and legs.

The wild dance short-lived,
shirts darkening like the sky,
tails down, rain stops play.



Windy day. November

In the yard’s eddy,
rattling leaves play chasing,
reliving their youth.



The month has begun as the old one ended, misty and wet. Winter’s here now but it’s still mild – a little colder, granted, but not bad.

November mist

Colour-draining fog
opalesces the hillside.
Life in a snow globe.

Throaty corvid cry
and lesser sounds of small birds
emphasise the mist.