Wet and cold
A heavy fog
The visible world
Just the first field.
I'm buoyed by the beauty
I cannot see
But which feels so close.
I smell the scent
Of the spice of spring
Wafting from enchanted places
Down in the woods
Where wild garlic grows
Chaffinch pinks happy
on the ghost of a thorn
And my beautiful skylark
Falls from the sky
like an autumn leaf
Out of the clouds
On to the greening meadow.
#CoSopoetry