We begin with the warming, the pip of a heart.
Day mould in the leaves,
rust in the flora scatters in shudders.
Stuck to a tree comes a bellow of cuu. A sparrow I drew
with the yew in my bow; sadly, sorry. Mouthlings are split.
A mermaid-purse for the insides-out:
the forgotten smell of worms.
© Eve Redwater 2012
[Short and sweet today everyone, my workload is not fun! This photograph was taken on a trip to the Peak District one afternoon; a lovely snowy day. Submitted for DVerse Open Link Night.]