Poetry Map of Scotland, poem no. 188: Callander

Gullipen in Winter

It is break-heart beautiful up here.

Trees are darkened,
starkened by a white backdrop.
Puddles are stilled into
thin vulnerable crackable ice.

Clouds float, cradled in blue.
Sun strobes through whitened firs.
Houses huddle, silvered by snow
and tiny-ed into fairy-tale magic.

Winged turbines wave,
leap-dance like grounded geese.
The dog slithers, slips.
Snow spouts from his scrambling paws.

It is break-heart beautiful up here

Only footprints
show signs of others.
I use them
in a Wenceslas descent

back to greyness.

 

Jean Thewlis

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