Down the Dank Way
Out of morning
a misted light,
glowing fire
in the air.
Bare trees,
frozen.
A paling sky.
The ground’s
hoary pelt.
Dark river,
whisps
of vapour
on its surface,
like wights
stalking
the remains
of night.
Craig has had poetry, short fiction and drama published in several magazines and is working towards his first collection of poetry.