The Prize of Paying Attention

An extract from an unfinished piece, written January 2018.

The darkness doesn’t linger too long.
The birds see it-
At four-thirty, they swoon melodies of rising,
At half seven, Sun begins to break through the
It is still light at a quarter to five.

The divine gradients of chalk blue, blackcurrant and peach return,
patiently, to our skies,
As watercolours running across a page,
Delicate and freeform, tinted beauty.
Clouds, as a gilded world map
Scattered and strewn above

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.