A Winter Walk

This craggy place vehemently clings to dawn’s perpetual shadow, the desolate wind arbitrates with the warm body! Mine. To the west grey stone fuse with inhibited sky, within the brownish bracken sly vixen gives me a second look, possibly doesn’t like my scar fell face! Alpine flower reaches out to a watery sun for life, soon to be put on hold, but surely an end to one’s misery? The fragrance of the morning send the beast to the wall, no need of the weatherman up here. The kennel next to the cattle grid remains inhabited the doorway of jute guards against inclemency. In this isolated place, the riverbanks expose all to winter, cheerless waters witness a cortege of inanimation, many shades bestowed by nature in respect to this cycle of the seasons! © Harry J Horsman 2000