A birdless sky
We walked beneath a birdless sky
A wind harrying our necks
I don’t recognise this place you said
It’s like home, the way home is in a dream
We slipped ourselves into the forest, trying not to trip on its bones
Waiting for the slate-sky to fall
And the birds to fly again.
Penny Harrison.
"trying not to trip on its bones" - Gold! ✨
Lovely Penny - I picked out the same phrase below!
Good to have you back!
Sue