Sheltering
My boots crunch dark gravel.
Wind whips the skin of standing water.
Sheltering, behind a dry wall -
grey, flecked stone -
a snowdrop.
Stem bending in the wind,
fragile petals tossed,
sitting out the storm.
A quick brooding cloud
brings rain then hail -
small, stinging barbs of ice.
I join the snowdrop
and we hide together.
The cloud slides by,
sun lights the immaculate
white head as it nods
in the nagging breeze.
Tim Fellows 2019
Image by Capri23auto from Pixabay
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