Night Approaches

Barren hills and railway tracks

Unite isolated villages

Threatened by the cold hand of winter,

Bare branches overhead,

Leaves rustle underfoot.

Night approaches in a fleecy cloak of fog,

Dragging a foot in a slow limp,

A dissenting glare

From under a black felt hat,

Passes without pausing

And melts into the fading light.

 

©Kim M. Russell, 2015

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