On the High Ridge Scrub


On the High Ridge Scrub

Each day sleeps and wakes in solitude –
it’s motion that instils direction. At least
that’s what I always thought, but it’s not

that simple, he says. He keeps a flock
on the high ridge scrub, and we watch
them from the car. Bursts of rain fill

our heads with hurried sounds, fleece-
tumbled clouds sealing milk-glass sky.
Another storm to carve and wound

the chalk hills, crag the cliffs in a clown’s
tragedy. And there beside the tumbled
stonewalls, sheep bleat – emit a stutter,

a starved beacon to those lost amid
chapped wind and twig scrub.



Inspired by Bleak House Sunday Whirl words: instill, fill, burst,
tumble, glass, sound, clown, fleece, another, wound, emit, seal.


18 thoughts on “On the High Ridge Scrub

  1. I am not sure where you are but this transported me to the Scottish highlands…I love the line about the storm carving and wounding…making the landscape…wild and bright


  2. In a previous life, I kept sheep. They do stutter, and they stumble as well. Not the most graceful of creatures! 😉


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