My First Poem

(I wrote my first Poem at the age of 12, in 1968. It isn’t very good, but we all have to start somewhere. I include it for completeness: since I am using my blog as a record.)

The Mist Shape

The early morning mist shape
glides ghost-like
across a field
silver with hoar-frost.
Nothing stirs but this eerie form.
Birds are absent
from their choir-stalls in the hedgerow
and nature’s silence  seems
to mourn for their return.
There are no tombstones here
Nothing for a spirit to haunt
but black bushes
in winter sleep.
The mist shape winds
around a tree
its icy fingers
grope among the boughs.
What is it seeking?
The branches are bare
and inhospitable.

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