QUIET US:

A low Brecon Cloud descends to wrap around us annexing us
from the world and everything gets simple, even the sound
of the day, everything is in the same small room. Spiders
build dew festoons in nettle, bramble, rose hip & hawthorn.
Silver candy floss hogweed sticks. Birds fly low, call in
muted song from the edge of fields, check they’re not alone
& for a brief moment everything is calm after another violent
evening.

(K)