they promised us "no rain" but

here we are

at the aptly named Water Lane

where the trees, be-whiskered of finger,

stroke their leaf free, would be, chins

bemused by roots once dry and thin now

fat and drunk

so let’s begin

we passed a fox

we passed a hound

but then a somewhat grisly mound

mechanically rendered

and from that point south ...

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unbound sky wolves

slaver their granite miasma

then grizzle above and around.

Odin’s bane, biding

such furious a discharge

set amongst  heofon to scourge

a panic of flight

where the divided are devoured

in a geraz ecstasy

the four stags bellow

a chilling blast

of spittle drenched

breath

Yggdrasil’s children

tremble ...

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