Cold Cold Night …
Was a bracing cold night on the way to and from the grey metal letterbox I rarely check except by torchlight.
My shadow firmly outlined under the bright moon, not quite full, as I walked the long dusty driveway, careful not to abandon my footfall to the uneven stone studded surface.
Stars faded in a bright night sky, a jet plane blinking red and white as it passed above, its distant engines moaning faintly, suggestive of other times, other places.
Blank faces the other side of glass, no names, no life.
Just a grey memory now.
Time passes.
Time’s gone.
© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look …
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Nature's Place 
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