Skeletal Solstice
Skeletal Solstice December: Ice begins to form o'er Autumn's gloriously golden late-turned landscape, Fronds of burnished bronze bracken fear-recoil; their penetrable hollow stems, product of a long, drought-scorched summer, scream vulnerability now. Yet, the veins of the copper-coloured beech leaves, adorned with Jack's frosty glitter, shine, as if to mock the plant and human-life beneath them. Skeletally-strong, they and many others, have endured many winters, Witnessed the cycle of nomadic souls who venture these treacherous paths On such cold yet invitingly wistful, mist-filled days, Their thick bark coats shielding layer upon layer of ecstasy and tears. Muscle-memory ignites, skin to skin contact, I breathe them all in, And wrapping my arms around your confidence As the sun sets o'er the shortest day, I feel heaven. I was unable to visit you, dear tender beech this Solstice, For I fell at Jack's gate - his path sealed my fate, My pate-safe elbow-braked,