Medieval Pine – February 2024

Sweet scent of medieval pine
The soft crackling of a hazel log
Painted on vintage canvas
Lying on the quiet wharf 

Winter whispers
A cold and crippled silence
A gaze deep into blue pockets of river
Moonshine, monsters and memories 

Mist over cool hills
Lights approaching
The ring of its skeletal key unlocks
A blind man’s last bluff 

To sing and dance
To walk one last time into blurred fantasy
To burn every blue star in the sky
Quiver at the water