Monday, 31 January 2022

COLD AS GLASS...

 Cold As Glass…



Trees with stripped limbs 

In dislocated poses clawed at me

As I cautiously approached

The gaping, leaf strewn holes

Of the setts.

Glass in broken pieces

In a rouge sunset glinted at me

And I silently reproached

The dumping of shards

Near the setts… 


And the cold eased itself 

About me, as I waited

For daylight to fade,

Unabated…


Knees and slumped limbs

In distracted poses ached on me

As I pondered and watched

A flirting robin which stole

Strewn nuts stealthily.

Glass at crude angles

In dim light winked at me

And I wondered at and touched

The blades of the sherds,

The callous waste, warily…


And the night released itself

About me, as I tarried

And light became shade,

Unhurried…



Pete Ray

31st January 2022


I took food and water for a cete of badgers.


Glass was strewn near one entrance to a sett.



I cursed.


It was cold, silent and lonely, except for a flitting robin.


I saw no badgers.


It was too cold.


I removed the glass.


   




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