The promontory,
a bare stone bluff,
lifts its foetal dinosaur hump
above the insular pub tucked
into a crumbling crack
in the leavings of prehistory.

Under a china sky,
a waymarked trail
knits together threads of hills,
field walls and pasture ridges,
barns, farms and villages,
all muddied with winter.

Boots gouge rocks,
imprinting scars,
tattooing a melody,
leaving blood on heels of socks;
cryophilic walkers stride on,
faces numb with wind and drizzle.

On the road below,
headlights fizzle;
music seeps from a car radio,
a reminder of the city
that lingers as an echo
and disappears around a bend.

Civilisation casts its spell:
the beacon pub is bright
and the hikers welcomed
by an open fire’s warmth and light,
and pints of golden, frothy ale;
sanctuary from the icy gale.

Kim M. Russell, 2017


My response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #136 “January 2nd, 2016”

7 thoughts on “Sanctuary

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