Geese high in a frozen sky.
Quatre, cinq, six.
An elbow of light,
Risked,
Breaking through the embroidered element.
A swoon of shadowed feathers,
A flurry of questions,
Circling, endlessly
Enlightened against dark,
And lonely pines.
How to know this place as she does?
~
A short poem that arose from the flat lands this morning. partly inspired by the electric shock of a marsh harrier.
~
In other news I’ve just started reading Mark Vernon’s account of Dante’s The Divine Comedy, it’s proving to be gloriously distracting, a proper page turner, it is. Kudos to Mark’s writing for that. I’m currently on canto 16 of Inferno, titled “Reputation”.
I’ll report back once I have something helpful to share.
Meanwhile I’ll be working on the final instalment for the year’s Fenland Musings. It’s due on Christmas Day (being the last Thursday of the month). So I’ll likely keep it short and as sweet as a festive nut.
Thanks for being here.
Will
