Clag

(Ros Murray)

Clouds drift across the watery Sky,
Bringing the promise of changing weather.
High Cirrus takes the edge off the rinse of blue,
Fortelling the arrival of Nimbostratus.
Within hours no trace of blue,
The dreaky clag will envelope all.
Envelope the buildings, envelope my mind.
In the clag time moves, slow.
Boulders become giants,
And the ghosts of timeless days walk still.
In the clag and dreak the ghosts of mountains
Haunt the silent town.

Matt getting out there on Heart of Darkness, Mowing Ward, Pembrokeshire
Photo: Matthew Brown