That day

The clouds bubbled
And the sky sliced
Through the frenzy
Spilling a pale glaze
Of blue.

A magpie skittered
Across the air,
Chasing a moving shaft
Of gold.

Early, dusty warmth
Began to blow
From the horizon

And on a battlement
Its ancient granite eaten with
Yellow and green lichen
A tall girl gazed

Her fingers
Gripped the stone, her face
Hardened in anticipation
As she felt more than saw

The distant flash 
Of silver armour
Lance her eye.
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