By torchlight
By torchlight
the drift of drizzle
Is a fine feathering of magic;
A dusting of cloudflakes,
Fine as flour
And light as liquid snow.
I watch the wind made visible
By twists and turns of droplets,
Shining like planets,
Flocking like tiny birds,
As the torch illuminates
The soft, dark underbelly of the night.
(c) A Mc N
the drift of drizzle
Is a fine feathering of magic;
A dusting of cloudflakes,
Fine as flour
And light as liquid snow.
I watch the wind made visible
By twists and turns of droplets,
Shining like planets,
Flocking like tiny birds,
As the torch illuminates
The soft, dark underbelly of the night.
(c) A Mc N
posted by alistair mcnaught at 9:05 PM
2 Comments:
Is it yours? Yes, I think so. It is charming. It’s like a description of the night I’ve seen tonight. My best regards. M.
It was one of those unexpected moments when 'miserable weather' suddenly became 'magical weather'.
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