Southern winds bring in cold
from the expanse of rolling seas.
On the peaks of hills and downs
ice clouds cling to tree hearts.
Horizon views become plain as
clothes for a winter warmth;
fields hide beneath scraps of
white-grey cloth, rough hewn.
Alone, I walk the valley trough
and up through forest path.
Dreams hang thick in the air
as jewel droplets fall to nothing.
Far above the town’s slow buzz
distances reach out for home.


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