SH ( / Ireland)

New Jacket. (For Damaris)

That dead tree that I'm about to cut,
proud with its crow bounty.
A few sheep mushroomed
fly scarved cattle fields
down the road,
In the wardrobe
a new jacket
waiting to be worn old.
This winter
whatever the weather
I shouldn't be cold.

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Comments (1)

This is a lovely poem, well done. Carol