Midwinter approaches.
You'd barely know it.
Galloway's soft murky skies,
Low clouds born of mudflat and peat,
don't waken the sparkling frost in me

A sudden unexpected pang
for the cut-glass winters of Aberdeen,
skies as clear as no sky at all
and the Dee all poised and crystal
descends upon me in the thick southwest smir

And I long to crunch along the riverbank
with my brother in the frost,
laughter-born clouds
dissipating in the hawthorn branches,
blackbirds startling
in the ice-bound undergrowth -
deep pink sun bursting and bleeding
across the wide blue horizon.

I could return -
follow the waxwings
reclaim my winter home
but I won't -
instead,
I'll cast a glance
of sparkling northern granite
across the fields and mulch,
see if I can clear these skies
and freeze this other Dee

And build myself a fresh white landscape
as crisp
and clear
as memory.

When work needed done
We used to pound the pavement
But now we just punch keys
We're living in the digital age
Full of neon signs and L.E.Ds

Some say it's the future
Some say it's a disease
I say *it's okay in moderation
Just take a moment
Unplug
And Breath

A golden smile, a gilded mane
Soft sunlight, the smell of rain
Singing eyes, the sirens' call
Smiling still, despite the fall
Halo of light, suspended still
Golden flight, yellow daffodil
Porcelain skin, pale as the moon
A vision of life, in the afternoon
Drenched in sun, light and tears
Her gilded lips, are drawing near