Nowhere To Be Found (Poetry)

Nowhere To Be Found

Shadows beneath the timbers within the cylinders in the mist,
They shout so softly into the moor in anger and in fist,
Bring me close to the furthest point in image and in doubt,
The fortress moves, and the rubble is left, from the deluge to the drought,
Wild-wood asserts its noble place, beneath the silence with a crack,
The sun migrates for another day as the heavenly body comes back,

Kirk Sutherland