Friday, 28 November 2008

Up the road, early evening, sky.

Veils lift smoking southward, pigeon-blue
and inland appears, flat cut-out layers.
Sunset gashes through just once, bleeds,
and cirrhus blazes a path out north,
toward the dirty pink escarpments there.


Plutarch said...

Smashing rhythm. Captures the movement of wind and cloud. Tensions of the weather.

Bee said...

What good "action" verbs! Plutarch is right -- the rhythm and word choices are so dynamic.