hill

‘If you want to gather all your desire into one simple word that the mind can easily retain,
choose a short word rather than a long one.’ The Cloud of Unknowing.

hill

of bracken in game feather country
and sheep painted with blue numbers
retreating from a red dog sniffing grass
the grass is dog

hill

visions on all sides from Garway
towards the Brecon Beacons and Malverns
the spongey ground responds to my tread and sweats around my boots

hill

deflects the wind and slants thin
sunshine into valleys
grips roots of nibbled plants
a cool skin now October’s here

hill

with a nerve like a
tooth senses the surface
the cloud of gnats keeping formation
I sit on the branch of an ash tree

hill

I pray and springs open
moss briefly wakes
and night-fresh toadstools
gasp to be known

© All text and images belong to Sean Swallow. All work is protected by copyright.