You wander across the greying plain

Here it is wild and here it is peace.

Roots and brambles trip you in your daze

Before you reach the clearing and breathe in release.

A dark cloud of ink on blotting paper sky

There are no faces on the trees, not now.

A question lurks somewhere, but why?

The ground is so solid you could cry.

Overcast, slightly too cold. Meagre shiver.

Lingering dialogue and shards of light.

The water still gurgles in the creek,

But there is nothing and no one in sight.

The horizon presses down on you,

Why did you ever think you could manage?

A small bird lands, bold against the grey hue.

You smiled, and away it flew.