And The Wind

I have been here before but

The light is different.

And the wind is blowing

Making the water dirty so

I will go inland.


Reverie; bitter thoughts of some

Perceived wrongdoing

From another century.

In another country.

And I wake to dull forest


Trees with selfish winter blooms

Private flowers for self pollination.

No sun, no dapple.

Smell of wet, smell of clay.


I meet three dogs on the flats

They are wary and bark

And bark.

Until I go.