foggy (Remove filter)
Mud
dusk in the copse is foggy, and after rain there's
mud, so you watch your step as rubber
boots kick life into the mess.
no rainbow
lights the ploughed churning, or stars sputter at such
perfect mire, it harks instead at
mad trenches, branches
dripping onto brambles sharp as barbed wire.
can worms survive this clay or do
gills get jammed as mouths and rifles did, each
...
Thursday 6th August 2020 1:47 pm
Recent Comments
leon stolgard on Is it?
20 minutes ago
leon stolgard on Just You
21 minutes ago
leon stolgard on Beneath an audience of Stars
23 minutes ago
leon stolgard on SPIKE-LIKE
47 minutes ago
Graham Sherwood on Tales of the Riverbank
58 minutes ago
Tom Doolan on Shimmering Light
2 hours ago
Tom Doolan on One Tear at a Time
2 hours ago
David RL Moore on Tales of the Riverbank
3 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Evan Tyler
3 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on The End of His Tether
3 hours ago