no god came up from the hollow only fog caught in the black trees and the creek working under stone as if the dead still had somewhere to go #poetry

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the sun lays its gold upon the dark shoulders of the trees beyond them the Appomattox sings low against clay and roots holding the bank how softly the water touches where so much had been commanded a thin cloud of earth opens in the shallows and gently a little of the bank goes with it #poetry

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nearly morning the woods are still dark when the first bird begins I cannot see it only the branches slowly separating from the sky and the small interval in which I know something is there before I know what it is perhaps this is how the world began for me a sound before the light #poetry

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Kapalı içerik

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Kapalı içerik

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