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BLEAK



Bleak is a pale thin fish
Skimming in drifts
Where weed is sparse

Bleak is food for the heron
And scant his plumes
In chill morning

Bleak is day
And bleak the eye of the bird
In fast bleakness

In such a bleak prospect
The sharp beak
And the bleak fish

It would take much to lift
This mood of mist
And monochrome

It might take sun
Which can mean nothing
In such bleak emptiness

Alasdair Aston
November 19, 2011 9:03