Riding the Storm

December Storm

We drive south into a ferrous wind.
The sky unclenches. Fingers of rust
stain the peaks of Morven and Scaraben,
old blood on a crumpled sheet.
The land trembles with yesterday’s news.

Barbed and shredded. Bales of hay sheathed
in pink stack the sweetness of last summer.
Sheep dot and dash the fields like broken
teeth spat into a steel bowl. Crofts cower,
trees twist into submission. Amputation

-dislocation. Strike a pose. Resistance
is futile. Across the border smoke rises,
thin entrails signalling your departure.

 

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This original watercolour painting is for sale. Please email me if you are interested in making it yours.

4 thoughts on “Riding the Storm

  1. Such a powerful piece, Nikita, seething with conflict and decay drawn from every aspect of the landscape by dark magic, right through to the stunning thin entrails of departure.

    The artwork, to me, brings a message of hope. I like all the art, and it’s a personal thing, but this one is my favourite—the complimentary sea green and pink, the osmotic effects of the watercolors, and as I see it, a night sky with stars and a clouded sun.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Steve, good to receive your feedback. I wrote the poem on the day of my mother’s funeral. Yes, that painting is my favourite too. I love the pale shade of sea green. Watercolours are a new medium for me so still experimenting and learning. Watercolours can be unforgiving, always used oils or acrylics before. Anyway, thanks so much for your lovely comments. 🌤

      Liked by 1 person

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