boatmoor

 

 

an old boat screeching

empty threats against

its winter mooring

 

a shovel between jobs

the well-worn handle

the sleet-shiny blade

the limestone wall

that frames it

 

three men sharing

the last few drams

huddled under the arch

of the bridge smoking

quick hard draws

against the unforgiving

work of shovelling

 

a white heron

separating itself

from the snow

making no sound

no sound at all

 

foggy morning

revelations

snowarch

 

 

 

 

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