A TRICK OF THE MIND:
Cold comes back to Essex on a guest list direct to the bone.
We warm ourselves around fires piled high with fresh hedge
wood glowing orange, yellow white. Smoke as thick as cream
clings to our hair & clothes, makes us smell good when we go
indoors, drifts across fields, languishing in valleys,
runs it’s phantoms through naked forests. We look at one another
smiling, clutching hands, warm, happy. Charcoal hunting in a frost.
Woke up to a thin pink sky, lay awake listening to the wind whistle
pan-pipes round the house, still smiling.
(K)
Karl Hyde 
Well, was this our meeting?
At least I never could cause you any harm, right?
…and I could listen to you all day.
What a laugh.
Cut me i bleed like you… ha ha
🙂
Love your art ❤
lovely, I’m missing this.
Just caught up on your last few days of poetry Karl.
Saturday night down time……the soundtrack……….Fila Brazillia’s Black Market Gardening.
We really have something special in the UK – artistic and creative brilliance.
Life enhancing – love it !