Friday, 11 November 2022


Soon the light will be fading

and the crows are circling

like winged messengers,

a cawing cacophony, 

harbingers of death 

and confusion.

We try to make sense 

of our once familiar place

searching in vain for the water

which we know we must find

and cross.


for something, 


to give us a bearing,

to help us find the river

in this dreamscape

of another world.

But perhaps 

we have already crossed over.

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