Poppit Sands West Wales

Claggy Bottom, Kimpton

Claggy Bottom

A careless foot breaks the beauty

 of the frosted, icy puddle:

what was smooth, with air bubbles

creating different shades of white,

fractures and cracks into splinters.

The water begins to leach through;

The purity of the untouched, darkens with

cold, uncaring liquid seeping

 towards the sky,  only

To be frozen once again.

Spring is a memory only.

We are locked into frost.               

The shadows are growing 

Zebra striping the fields, 

White Frost, black shadow, trees, 

Looming ever more threateningly 

In the fading light. 

Footprints, not of boots 

But of hares leave echoes 

Of play or escape 

As they criss- cross 

The ploughed, whitened, hillside. 

Dark is closing now 

The frost will harden still more 

closing the landscape for the night.