This road will take me
Nowhere near the sun
Low cloud
weighs heavy on the hill
The thistles are gloomy
sad-nodding
Grey-bearded
Bedraggled has-beens.
There's a wren
In the rowan
His song
Swelling
like a little fist of red berries
Fighting to brighten the morning
And as I rise
I see the sun
Pale, silver
Like it's own ghost
Smiling.
#CoSopoetry
This is absolutely beautiful. Thank you so very much for your gift of poetry.
I can feel the coming of autumn in your words.💛
@Esther they are mighty birds
@matty7w
Your description of the wren’s song also thrilled me - their song is so wonderfully feisty!
A couple had two broods on a broken part of our house and they all departed two days ago - a successful summer, but oh, how I miss their conversations 😉