ForkWordPoems by Inchiki |
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Shipley Valley AfternoonIn the silly still air; bird sounds from a speck of dust suspended in the stone library almighty leaves alone against sky, a parapet of dire falls isolate the cry frosty air tends the ear and clasps neck, a horse thuds on turf, a plane pricks the evening gown banjo frogs lament an empty wineglass I am tied Tom fool and grown senseless to it all the bird is still barking cooler, cooler the blue – it’s a cockatoo Rhymes for a mood, 2007 |
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