Winter solstice
On a low ridge of hills
wind turbines pause.
Both children have pelted
up the lane to splinter
ice between its ruts.
We follow the children
and talk. Black soil is stippled
with pale straw. Sunlight
slants our shadows
across the field:
two pairs of legs, thin
as dividers in a geometry set,
measure its length; rooks
prod the soil beside our heads.
Beneath a hedge
green buds nudge
through rusty leaves.
Where the lane reaches
its vanishing point
our children wait.
- Sharon Phillips 2018
Sharon’s poems have most recently appeared on Amaryllis, The Poetry Shed and Ink Sweat and Tears, and in Picaroon and Sentinel Literary Quarterly. In 2017 she won the Borderlines Poetry Competition with her poem ‘Tales of Doggerland’ and was also shortlisted for the Bridport Prize.
Beautiful imagery Sharon.
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