Sealed

The seal
All deep and well
Cold and flowing blue.
Deep again
Under the dark thundra
Rebuilt in ice
From the vital melt.

The Halflings

Wrapped in the blanket
To stay warm, moving on,
And your skin getting
Cold, exposed in the dew,

Wondering if they are
Still with us, your people
Migrating
Through the terrible
Snow. A long walk away
From war.

No barns buckled round,
Stocked with feed. No
Brambles, all cutback,
Thinned. Moored.

Walking on a devil's mattress,
With bare faith in the way, and
Repeating to yourself the mantra,
'Something stirs in the East'

The Rules of Prayer

New short story of mine recently published in the Humag

http://humag.co/prose/the-rules-of-prayer