Sour sobs smear

        Sour sobs smear

        the once green

        morning hills.

        Warm

        yellow

        butter thick

        by afternoon

        they glaze

        the ground

        in cold

        lemony light.

        Intrepid

        invaders

        of landscape

        insist

        in simple arrogance

        on a coup d’état

        of colour.

These poems are from my new collection IN THE APRICOT DARKNESS (view the cover and contents below in my recent posts). They are now being published individually, daily under 'recent posts' on my blog and will be available shortly as an eBook that can be read online or downloaded for free.