The chill

A winter sky bears bleakly down,
expelling colour from the town.

Three days ago birds lingered on -
a heron preened himself in sun,
the pontoon warmed a pair of swifts
drying dark blue ailerons.

Now they hide from flinty winds
that pierce the breast
like icy darts;
the last of autumn's unshed leaves
glisten in the frost like stars...


Рецензии
Inspiredly. Very inspiredly.

With great respect.

Виктори Мердок   19.12.2017 20:36     Заявить о нарушении
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