Out
into the dewdropped
Raindropped, mist-muddled
Brown-puddled, owl-screeched
Damp
of an autumn morning
Pipits whistle
In the grey-heavy
Low-slung weight
of the cloud-roof
Sitting on my shoulder.
There's a moaning, fluting
Low note
floating down the hillside
Coming from the inside
Down through the bones
of the earth
Like the sound of a mountain
Crying.
And by dark walls
The ditches full of lilac daisies
Shining.
#poetry