an upturned bowl of mist,
neither light nor shadow falling to break my solitude,
as I walk the lanes.
Grey shapes loom,
trees and hedgerows stand alone,
once more to see and know each other, when light returns.
Silently dripping into the earth,
all life suspended.
Nebulous ghosts swirl around me,
regrets, like wraiths, rise from the darkness
as cold tears embrace me.
Dense air, unheeding of the solitary walker, shivers ahead.
held captive momentarily by greedy sods,
clinging to the only life there is,
unwilling to let go.
The chariot of the Sun God
has abandoned the earth;
angry riders gallop across the sky,
speed and billowing menace their only purpose.
My heart weeps too,
longing for joy and ease of living,
all hope buried in sodden graves.
hidden among the fallen leaves of yesteryear
pressed into the mud by unceasing rain,
shiny heads of new life emerge
into a brave new world.
Winter aconites beam a golden glow into the gloom,
tiny chalices of light, encircled by a glossy crown,
they promise rebirth.