mist
it will be winter
soon - mist morning
trees invisible
hills and forests
smeared out as a
bird voicing it's
nano song flutters
off past the rectangular
windows closed blinds
amidst the memory
of visiting friends
warmth laughs
and good ness
the sun is lighting up now
This little poem is part of a bigger set of poems called the RAFT which I wrote during lockdown. I am busy typing through these writings now. How strange it all was then.
Virginia Aurora Scott 