Moorland lurks in my soul
skies that bleed rain, seep mist
slant slopes that yearn for sunlight in winter
twilight danger as sharp branched trees close in
a dance with the lowering sky
someone once said it was my altar
my shadow a church spire across bog

Copyright © 2022 Kim Whysall-Hammond

8 thoughts on “Church

  1. the shadow of an altar – a touch of a similar movement into and from that which is more real than real. Also reminds me of my 6 years living in and not romanticising rural North Wales. Thank you for another beautiful poem.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. What a beautiful poem. Your “skies that bleed rain, seep mist” could be describing the Oregon around me as I read your marvelous description of a beautiful sounding place. Thank you, as always, for your observations and poetic voice.

    Liked by 1 person

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