The scrunch of the frozen grass beneath you
Your breath visible-
as you climb the Blue Stack

Stopping at the large black granite rock

Sitting there alone 
With a frosted top

You carefully compose your shot
The sun diffused
But making it through to your lens
Almost like it knew you would capture it.

For you were born when the winter sun was low
And gave you a beautiful light
So now you can repair with gold-
Kintsugi style

A Poem by Kieran Coogan

Image credits: Unsplash – Simon Lee / Stephen Murphy

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