Transient (4)
Skies of palest violet,
An uninhabited eye
Whose souls are words.
An unimaginable wind
Blows light in waves
across the hills.
Like heaven,
the snowfields rise above,
Hardly visible, their glimmering.
A village of daffodils sways.
The jackdaws freefall in joy.
There is ice in the buckets
And all the farms roar with fires
For the lads and lasses hunched
With cold hands
From a long night’s lambing.
simonhlilly 
It’s like another world, the poem and the image, beautiful and kind of nostalgic.
Thanks, Steve.