Saturday, 11 January 2014

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.
            

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