land of mistletoe, 30th December 2016

leaving the land of mistletoe shrouded in hoarfrost and mist… or is it fog?… hard to tell these days, either or it’s when the ghosts emerge fine and frail of definition, barely more than grains of air among trees pregnant with mistletoe….. and as soon as it was there spawning fades from the everyday it was gone as I drove along my journey north into a winter paling sky also soon before too long being sieved of light……. while mistletoe left far behind in hoarfrost and mist…. or was it fog?…… between the miles of empty dark I’m passing herds of lights, sulphur, sodium, huddled close among themselves as tight as they can huddle as a night seep cold and froze n seeping, weeping into streets and gardens, skin and bone, feeding off the shadows….. a barn completely decked in festive lights, I’m sure the cows appreciate that someone thought of them…… and from some houses, a twinkling of decorations wondering if this is all there is….. now far and far and far away from the land of mistletoe perfect timing had its way, the radio leaked strains of “Going Home (the theme from Local Hero)” as I crossed the bridge, crossed the strait til finally I’m touched down my tyres on familiar ground my island home now long ago and far and far and far away from the land of mistletoe……


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