Wednesday, 12 October 2016

At Peak: Arbor Low





They have trodden the round,
flake on grass
beneath a fugitive sun.

Until you call, I am exiled
from laughter and leaping:
you turn on limestone,
bold at the end of winter,
prancing to urge
that your passing is marked.

Break, old stone,
under the weight
of story and weather.

No comments:

Post a Comment