Thank you to everyone who participated in this week’s photo prompt. Some posts have been reblogged, but please click on the links below to visit all the posts and leave a comment for the author! A new prompt will be published later today.

The photograph was taken on the moors in Derbyshire, when we sheltered in a rickety lean-to from a downpour, with a stream rushing past our feet and learned the sacred use of woodsmoke, but that is a tale all on its own. We were, in that isolated place, isolated still further by the curtain of falling rain and looking out through the gap in the corrugated sheeting and stone, I wondered how many people feel that way… and how many impose such isolation on themselves.

Little light remains.

A narrowing portal,

But a little glimpse

Of beauty.

*

Within a brittle shell

Of frozen fears

Petrified tears

Paralyse.

*

Piece by piece enclosed

Exile, self-imposed

That hides within itself

Insecurity.

*

Darkest isolation,

Remembered light forgotten

Battles projected shadows

In the silence.

*

Eyes that will not look

Afraid of phantoms,

Hearing but derision,

Escape refused.

*

Light looks on in sorrow;

Seeks the lightest rift

In such fragility

For healing.

*

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