Writing Our Way Home

A Little Bit Idyllic

Wind whipped trees,
shiver and sway,
slim silhouettes painted on a
backdrop of pewter sky
where glowering clouds congregate
on the horizon
and their big bellies
jockey and jostle for position.
Under the sullen illumination
of a tired streetlight,
fallen leaves, dull and dingy
dance and skitter
a frantic rumba
along the gutters
sloughing a trail of
tiny shards and slivers
to mark their passage.
Dark comes early here,
a daylight thief
swift but stealthy,
turning shades of grey
from the gathering gloom
to deepest tenebrae
and cold pries at my window
with rattling skeleton fingers,
it fogs the panes with blasts of icy breath
but inside, nothing is more idyllic
than flannel pyjamas,
hot cocoa and
a contented old dog
sleeping in his basket.

#smallstone 30