The sun has stopped
And turned
The slow climb north
Begins at last
The worst
Is never past
The past
Is not the worst
There's more. There's always more
Day broken, now
Grey flutter, mirk and gutter
Fire lit, peat reek
Lost summers speak
In smoke and flame
Water boils
Lamb roasts
Bread bakes
Fish fries
Past noon, the night
Frowns, glowers
This day of shite
Shuts down
The hours pass
Slow spring beckons
The clink of glass
Spirit poured, the burn
The glow
The parched demand
More. More
There's always more.
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