is as precious as the new year’s rainreplaced by silent prayers of frosttempering trees with a white crust it’s as welcome as a new dawnof impossible colours, deep skywashed to breath-taking lucidity it’s the joy of low winter sunlighting up a butter-yellow aconitestill clenched fist-tight it’s the trees’ chill breathof leaf mulch, pine and barkand […]
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writing in north norfolk 