Saturday, 23 November 2013

Ice And Fire

In the night the world is crystallised.
In the distance is traffic noise: here only one human, a cat, a few chickens, a dog stirs. Sun edges a dark cloud much as flame edges a fry pan.
In the field Dog wakes the wild birds, springs two roe deer. She catches nothing, cares not, exhales happy steam.
In pale cloud scatters the moon is camouflaged. From the horizon a puzzling dot grows into a hot air balloon.

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