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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