Some days when the grey is heavy
and the moon does not rise,
we take the path slowly,
watching deer cross the forest
at dusk, listening to rain
fall on the moss below.
With a push through leaves
we can taste, we move together
northerly, with the wind in the hills.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Website Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: