Walking the Dog
Tue, Feb 16th 2010, 10:13
Sludge red leaves, not yet soil, tarnish the ground.
Here a slip of silver, a quiver of birch,
Last season’s swish and swash still has shape
But soon the drape will rot to rib.
Wet clay will crack and
Spring will knock the winter back.
Stratford upon Avon, 16 Feb 2010
