Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
Sharp wings tug at frigid air Thermals crippled By Cailleach’s touch. Though sky is her hue Delightful deep blue, Her breath makes the bird Struggle for height Strive for flight. He circles, frustrated, Almost black against The colourful morning. He scars the misty white… Continue Reading “Hawk and the Half Moon”