The seventeen short poems below are, apart from the first
one, a selection of ‘distillations’ – brief ‘Haikuesque’ pieces
intended, in the most minimal sequence of words, to express
the spirit of their subject. As is sometimes to be felt, such sounds, silences, and scenes
can emanate spectral as well as natural propensities.
Before
No, nothing on the mountain
but shadows; and in the air
immensity, and silence – no bird,
no creature there, when
the last rays, pale and tired,
presaged the evening chill.
No soul in sight…
but voices,
echoes, queer and thin,
wavered in the spaces…
The stones remember, still.
Communion
Hist! There still abide
echoes of long-gone hymns
upon the bare hillside.
Conversations
Wind walks; makes
grass talk; sends rumours
through the trees.
Empty
Chill sky. Leaves lie.
Wooded slopes stand clear and bare.
Echoes travel miles.
Ghost-acre
Weeds grow as they will.
The path that was can not be found.
No-one goes there now.
Hill Farm at Night
Log fire smoulders.
Talk murmurs on. Vast darkness
rules beyond the panes.
Homesteads
Darkness falls. Now
odd, terrestrial stars wake
on the mountainside.
Northern Night
Wild, windy dark.
The treetops clash. Serrated pines
tear up the moon.
Northern Sky
Air, chill and raw.
Up there the stars mass,
glittering like rime.
November Morning Climb
Carn Edeyrn top.
See, faint blue smoke from scattered farms
curls up.
On a Cold and Frosty Morning
Crows‘ croaking
admonitions cut through
lifeless air.
Pine
Amber tears flow from
the mountain pine. Wind sobs through
her tassels, and she sighs.
Solitude
Mist on the mountain.
Faint calling of a shepherd
to his dogs.
Squall
Great shadows shift
above the lake – steel surface, vexed
by fits of rain.
Still Autumn Night
Stars shine; clear sky.
No breath stirs anything.
On earth, time rests awhile.
Weather
Uncertain dawn, with
sea and sky the same –
a dash of rain.
Winter Sky Inscribed
Naked trees
on grey – pale, fanned fossils
pressed in shale.
© 2023 Dafydd Hughes Lewis. All rights reserved. 
Dwi wrth fy modd hefo’r rhein Dafydd!
Reading them whilst Eryri is being battered by squally rain and wind. Dinas Dinlle and Ynys Môn no longer visible from here!
Beautifully evocative, delightful to read. Diolch unwaith eto.
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Dwi’n falch iawn, Gill – diolch. You have plenty of open spaces there, and weather, presently, to match some of these ‘shorties’!
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So much beauty here. ‘Pine’ and ‘Conversations’ are particular favourites but I love them all.
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Thank you, Jacydo. I ran through my ‘distillations’ (400+ of the little blighters 🙂 ) with a theme in mind. I’ve been meaning to post all of them, in stages, as they appear on-screen, in alphabetical order. Their relation to Haiku, though, demands some sort of explanatory essay, as Haiku for an English-language audience – as you know – is subject to a variety of interpretations. But … well, I’ll get around to it!
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