homestead

Through the holloway, beyond the wild fields, a patch of ashen earth, an epilogue to a fire. Metal threads, looping to infinity are all that remains. Through sloe and bramble, the path turns and climbs, trod mostly by the shadows of trunk, bough and branch. Next, a homestead: stables (seeming unstable, though), a lilac door, a discarded spool – giant, a basking circle under circle-sun.