cold starlings beech gather their cacophonies to the gates copper -leaved golden -throned. Break bread for them, bring water for them. blue mountain, the sleeping houses a hot-house orchid Mabel chases her ball Beautyberries subsist, |her peripheries stripped| Wintering – a drop of rain blesses each white globe benediction for the tiny bird there Break bread for them, bring water for them. Snowdrops, cyclamens low flowers cling to the low sun ii. I left a winter-flowering almond tree Once— her white breath against a dull sky Him— Here, at the cross road where five places meet my flowers are resurrecting their pinks. Baby’s breath, in a tall blue jug belonging to Lily. She listens to the sea, South of here. Copyright Chris Murray 2022
2 responses to “from a series by Chris Murray”
Like this very much, Chris
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Cheers Michael, This is my running spot which I am hoping to get back to next year. (Rehab is a slow process) Merry Christmas to you and the fam!