Januar ~ By this fire I warme my hands,

Every Picture Tells a Story: Winter’s sudden contemplation

When the night scented stock come in

And all of the dusk reigns around us

A musky smoke

Of burning leaves and wet rocks

All is cosy, locked in and battened down

A sleepy knowingness seeps in

A season and reason for movement is over

And the winter sits down long and low

Her frosty embrace – a familiar friend.




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