haiku.blog
A new day a new haiku
Under the oak tree
A mist of purple heather
Shelter from the storm
Can you hear the deer?
If you close your eyes and stop
Can you smell heather?
Heather crowded out
By brambling bracken and birch
Dark history exhumed
Swept over purple
And carved out of the hillside
Beneath to above
Dark heather stretches
Bleak across the prickly heath
Coal seams lay beneath
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