Thursday, 11 February 2010

a walk one day

Wrapped in booted bundles

Sheer breath hits red cheeks

Leaning full length against the grass hedgeside, the world flashes colours when I open my eyes. The walk is our neverending trundle. Hills so sharply white the stone ruins make soft relief for my eyes to rest against. We eat handfuls of snow.

Icicles hanging in thin trickles for our refreshment.

A curl of moss preserved in the root.

We silently salute ourselves, our beauty, our simplicity.

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