How strange to see

A smoky sun peering myopically over the hill

Vision obscured by wet-felt fog squelching on the valley floor

Yawns and stretches

Rising higher to shed a little light

How strange to see

A valley of shadow

Holding tight to its damp, dark doubts

Defying the day

Hot dry light meets cold wet dark

It’s never morning on the valley floor

Forever night in the pools and bogs

Sun has a coffee, bounds across the peaks

A whole world waits for warmth and light

No time to waste on the reluctant depths

How strange to see

A valley eternally in night