We'd walked from Clouds Hill to Moreton -
We'd heard bird song in a leafless tree - above us was the icy blueness of the sky -
We walked with frozen shadows -
The bright sun hung in the air, promising summer -
Redwings flew before us, rising up from a field grazed by lambs -
Bare oaks held high tangled crowns of lichened twigs - dark pines kept secrets -
Puddles mirrored the January world -
Inside the church, gentle babushkas admired the hand etched windows -
A galaxy spun in a lens of glass - a spitfire's wing took root under a gentle tree -
11.30
Friday 15 January 2016
Moreton
Dorset
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