I walked barefoot onto the roofs of the village 
treading on the white shaped stepping stones 
across the sea of daytime into the distance
where the sky melds with the earth in grey mist 
a fur coat ground of huddled bushes covered in snow 
with twigs standing out like signposts to the unknown 

bright specks of yellow light mark the centre of the way 
the dark forms of fir trees accompany me uncertain of direction 
lost among the houses in man's patch of loam 
a crazed puzzle following no rhyme or reason  
created at random by the movements of animals 
this hamlet in its own valley here in the map of the world                               

Margaret Ann Waddicor 2nd February 2016