The Sheep Wood

The sky was close to the ground.  The west hid the land. The reeds still and the threat of crow-rain in the sullen flat sky.  All silent.  All moving.  Wrapped past a red brick farm.  The air clung with peat-dew.  Over the plain a hawk or a heron and the pollard trees.  The sky showed the way.  A swan clawed the silent river.  The rain came to bring the sky.  The long willow.  A deer in the sheep wood.