The Silence of the Birds
In the inhale of the earth,
The silence of the birds,
The watching for the white Sun -
Dry words are breathing.
The silence of the birds,
The watching for the white Sun -
Dry words are breathing.
When the wind has torn the forests,
But the moorhens deem it safe
To walk on dirty water -
Write of their returning.
When the tree arms unbend
And creatures crawl curious,
Unsinging,
There is the poem,
The tin grey cloud in its palm -
Eyes towards its absence.
C. LJ Ireton 2024
Comments
Post a Comment