A kingfisher robed
in ghostly blue
swoops through
the morning murk
and gloom.
His clatter sounds
are fast diffused
by thick
and leafy
moulder fumes.
Autumn’s debris
lines fickle banks,
and mist is spread
like margarine
across the
silver lake.
Above,
day glow scatters,
shattered by cloud cover,
draping the whole scene
in clammy cool colour.
Here, one can’t help
but feel they, too,
could diffuse
as one particle
breaks step
from another
and waltzes free
through the
unfurling air.
Unbonded
and destined
for who knows what,
headed
who knows where.
pm poetry 