small town chemist
handing back the drugs
she left behind

river mist
one branch lifts a buzzard
above it all

beginners ballroom
a scent of stale sweat
wafts across the woodblock

a long team meeting
the horizon in the window
shifts from grey to blue

sudden hail
a flake of granite
amongst the lentils

breaking a bay leaf 
from a garden long sold 
the pieces soak up
all the ingredients 
that make up our lives

St Eligius' Day
a blood red dawn
over the forge

red tinsel rests
on cherry leaves
waxing moon

no leaves left
on the tallest ash
the blackness of crow

november dawn
putting on so many
shades of faded blue

in-between day
not sure if the moon
is half full or half empty

talk of cuts
the smell of a hedge
after the flail trimmer