Wild brambles in the foggy stillness

Today i walk with my stick
Pausing often
Lingering by this stream
Strangely ferrel in this dream of steel and glass

I listen to the wind without knowing the sound
No longer demanding to know a name for everything
Grasping with an open hand

Weeds
Wild brambles in the foggy stillness
Bird-cries in a small wind

One moment more
And then lunch

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s