On mid-winter afternoons, by half past three,
restless rooks have gathered in leafless trees.
Frosty fields are torn by the lowering sun;
the sky darkens and the witching hour’s begun.
In the dim half-light, windows start to glow
and shadow puppets haunt lanes and hedgerows.
Kim M. Russell, 2017
This Sunday we are choosing one or more of the given titles and fashioning a poem or story around them.