There are moments when I can be sure
That I am prepared. Far from that church
In a wintery field quite close to the sea
A mist crept quietly over the grey hedgerows
Smothering the chatter of unseen birds
Hushing animals that stirred the dead leaves
Stifling the slap of the restless waves
Leaving nature in awe of what might come.
As the mist dragged the dusk into the night
I was only what the mist was, the darker earth
Beneath my feet, the paler sky closing
Round my head. Involved with emptiness