it was a field of lapwings that drew my eye,
huddled into the ground, amongst the wintering gulls
plaintive in their cry.
where i stood, no neighbours shared,
a perfect openness
in which to breath the soft, and gently cooling air.
in fields adjoining sheep stand central,
all as one, calm smouldering eyes
and blend themselves into dusk.
then they are just an object
a shape, as indistinct
as the stars that shine on me from space.
i am amongst the winter creatures
and such is my joy,
for in their arms i am restful,
coaxed calmly into night,
given strength to plough the furrow long;
to carry on.
look how the smoke blows,
distant chimneys sending out their signals,
and into heaven as their pillars rise,
i am frozen, and held captive,
by this moment, and by my life.