Rising daily at dawn
Moments before my first alarm
Staring at the besummed face on my arm
Its stations and markers
A bisected tree’s leafless phase, rings marking advanced age
Its knobbled face, half-effaced, like a green man gazing out from his bole redoubt
An ancient loathing, cold old disgrace, a lonely place stuck loading
Where it is always yesterday or today, tomorrow’s weak foothold
Remaining arms raised as if bracing against sunrays
The newcome sun spreading across paves and cobbled ways
Like a shattered inkwell depositing across a blank page.
Alchemisland 
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