Constable mirrors move
continually from light to dark
ever modulating apparent form
as the sun beyond
tries to pierce their hazy layer
parting it from the cool beauty
of the rolling opalescence below.
But the white motes now thin and slow their descent
becoming weary of motion
seeking quiet and rest
among their forerunners who now
lie on the cold earth
waiting for warmth to free them
for yet further journeys.
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond