March 22, 2024Poem
After rain,
lossnaturepoliticstimemortality
After rain,
With the smell of it in the air
The shiver of damp leaves
The bowed heads of trees
Wet birds shake themselves dry.
Preening sodden feathers
Before taking flight,
The sheen of a Ravens breast
Puffed out in pride
At the intake of breath
It brings from me.
The ghost of a presence
At my side,
An angel of death
Walks among us
Wielding its scythe.
There will always be shadows
Grey areas
Hollowed out beneath the trees
Where ofttimes
Forest sprites wait
For the warmth of the sun
To bring about change,
The merry dance to begin.
The return of colour
The renewal of life
The wings of
Ravens and dark angels
Clipped