Sunday, 8 January 2017

the irrepressible gold of lichen, fresh new-year grass


The days alternate:
Vivid, beautiful sunlit ones,
When the landscape cannot but be alive;
Ones when the grey sky appears to leach
All colour from the countryside.

This morning, I cycled through this dead land -
Yet here was the irrepressible gold of lichen,
The bright burgundy of brambles and, yes,
The unnoticed emerald of fresh new-year grass.

No comments:

Post a Comment