The wind blows cold
It shatters my bones,
And slivers of rain
Punch straight through my soul.
Sunlight forgotten,
Our map led me wrong.
Promised a landscape
You’d not said which one.
I am lost up here,
Alone on the fell.
Ground so uncertain,
You knew me so well.

All right reserved – Alicia Fitton 2017

Picture by Alicia Fitton

If you liked this poem, read Pretending