The road

Green grace, creature air is a memory
in this percussive smoke of a place.

The snail, the pied wagtail
brave the pavement;

breathing spirals and stripes with eyes -
a dip and slide of redemption

smaller than my palm
delicate, old world.

LJ Ireton, 2025

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Lioness, outside The Garden

Fierce in the sky

This morning I saw seagulls