Saturday, 20 August 2022

Where It Stops


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everywhere’s sunny,
except at the field’s end

where shadows sharpen
the warp and shift of elms,

a thicket behind
that slub of quaking green

down to our pond.
A world slopes at the edge

where we both stand,
nipped between firm and the drowning.

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