In full torchlight beam
I stare as clusters
Of grey green lichen
Cling to silver birch.
It thrives as wet gales
Cross Preseli Hills
From west Atlantic
Into Aberbanc.
Such tenacity
Inspires fortitude.
I now determine
To carry on with
All started projects
Until completion.
Lichen can survive
These harshest of days,
So now I must shine
My old torch elsewhere,
In dusty corners,
And forgotten drawers.
Empty canvasses
Desire fresh brush strokes,
Microphones carry
my amplified songs,
Journey not over,
I’ve so much to do,
Blank pages await,
Full beam of torchlight.

Harry Rogers in the Red Bedroom, 3rd January 2023