Tag: loss
-
The Flames of Death
It was beautiful, the newly shooting buds of ancient trees, those toppled by the terrible storms defiantly greening, At our feet the carpet of pungent garlic holding its buds as precious gifts to a foraging folk and here and there stars of anemones shining in the dim lit ancient path. == We trod on round…
-
Then, Now and Tomorrow
I sat beneath the boughs of a tree, once, and watched the crowds go by. Dressed warmly against the cold, bright coloured scarves, boots and shoes, and even sand- als displayed beneath shorts of a wry hard man, displaying his hairy legs and muscles against the hoar, raw frosts on the brown, bare, sleeping,…