Friday, 23 January 2015


Contrails scour the sky
Tinged with raspberries and cream
On a blue background

The air is stillness
Frost growing on the meadows
Crystal sparkling grass

Thickening cold seeps
Branching from my fingertips
Numbed and chilly hands

Dreams of buttered toast
And warmed duvets snuggle safe
On a Winter's morn

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