
‘Capel Curig’ by Terry Mart
Capel Curig These leaves fall, the year’s ending. As acorns hit the roof, bouncing off, The wind’s from the West, Princes of Gwynedd clasp their cloaks. This oak birthed again last Spring Its sinuous branches warbled and chiffed Yet more eggs to lay. Hills behind are shabby, scabbed and scarred According to one miopic reading…or way of speaking But abundantly Quirky. ‘Lie by my side’ they say The oak rests its head, closes its eyes. There is variable cloud today which Drifts, laced along the cwm. Behind all this, Taurid comet Encke rains its meteors Submits to a tidal force breaking On the shore of Siabod, as an Evensong. A bird shifts through the days of the trees To its night-quarters, with: ‘A new heaven and a new earth’ emblazoned on its wings. St. Cerrig reads the prophet: ‘Days as trees’* he says. *(Isaiah 65:22).

I have forwarded this to my ex-priest poet friend in England.
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