Paul Mortimer Reads
Snow suffocates the shuffling of nature.
No longer can wind worry at autumn’s leafy remnants.
All loose ends are tied up,
neatly buried in a new world that’s stealthed
in under cover of darkness.
In this wire taut quiet
my hearing is keening at the silence.
Just your steady breathing
breaching my ears.
Visions sent downstream
Speaking words of woods, valleys and
moors over the weir, I watch
as these images are washed away
to some distant ocean.