Tuesday, 7 January 2014

small stone # 7 ~ Bare bones (winter)

Bare bones of trees stand proud against the raging wind;
their roots sinking in mud.  Sheep stand wearily, dripping,
at the edge of lake-like puddles, where once-firm soil
effortlessly produced sweet, fresh meadow grass ~ a feast
enough for health and strength in newly-conceived offspring.
Above, the ever-present ominous blanket, draped across the sky.

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