Thursday, 6 April 2017

Day Five

Where the valley cracks apart
Like two long legs
seductively and languid-like
Right here, right now
Is a kind of sweet abandon

The skin of the earth among these folds
Is prickled and precipitates
Your feet are like fingers
Tracing their way
Across a body, glowing and surrendered

The land sighs.
There's nothing in this moment
But a gust in your throat
And the tether of emboldened limbs
And it's hard. And it's good.

Everything here is a torrent
And it swells. And it saturates.


  1. "... a gust in your throat.." love these words together - very unusual expression, but it works. Well done..


A Fiction

This evening I silently drift In the pleasant fiction of peace Here upon the very field On which no end of battles Have been waged In ...