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Apr 2022
Upon the West Lands.
Summer has long been spent.
The cold current of the ocean
brings the rain.
Piecing together the weather.
They have lost all hope
in better calms.

The haunting bones of the islands archipelago,
brings out the prospect of shipwrecks.
The still melancholy of moonlight caresses the fallows.
The plowed hinterlands echo beyond,
the boundaries ofΒ Β saline drenched land defenses.
Celestrial sunlight is long gone,
as the gulls make their passage home.
Antony Glaser
Written by
Antony Glaser  60/M/croydon
(60/M/croydon)   
127
       Weeping willow, vb, Ledge, Ken Pepiton and kim
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