Out into the rosy gold
Of a late Autumn morning
The sky a vivid glory
The colours of the temeraire
Ravens overhead,
little clouds of pipits
Goldfinch glitter in the thistles
By the silver water
Hushing from its bed
I can hear you breathing
Before I see you
Stirring from the bracken
A gentle plume of breathy air
And you're there
At eyes-meet
We greet each other meekly
And then away
Like love
Like air on an eagle's back
You fly across the moor
With ease.
#CoSopoetry