Cloud, conifer, wet root And black earth accompany a Solitude the song sparrow Cheerily disrupts at my tread. Tower you, a textured text Of mountain, season over season. Drawing deeper breath The inner thud slows. How long since you were a sapling?
Dockside I overheard the sunset Conversation of women young enough To call Eve mother. Swallows spoke on waves while Father and son fished in other tongues. Here babbles a broad lexicon, every gloss In agreement lapping.
What has drifted down you, embanked in Emerald guard? All manner, all members Of this scape – the boat, the boy, the leaf, the legend Long untold, unwritten by ash and spark. What has drifted down you, silty reach, But the bedrock of our story? Where new tribes beat Battery’d drums and oarsmen count theRead more