such quiet days - a balm to my heart, like water lapping over stone, the cold has come the sun has gone, the rain comes down from glowering skies - but I sit on my own in silence reading the leaves the wind blows the trees which sway like underwater weeds, cold nips me when I fetch fuel, the rain is cruel no-one here, no sound, no speech, no requirement a balm to my heart, the quiet hours, like water lapping stonenext poem