Today I am living in a cloud.
A great grey cold and clammy cloud.
It has erased the hill above me,
And the vast green valley below.
Erased, replaced by a great grey sea.
Sound still travels across the abyss,
The eerie song of birds you cannot see,
The occasional car, or even rarer voice.
Out in the sticks solitude is your adversary,
With only your thoughts to protect you
From the shapeless insubstantial enemy,
Of loneliness.
by Izzy Silver
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