He has shown his people the power
of his works giving them the land
of other people.
"...the land of other people."
*
rust hill's edge
with 7 idiot trees
Barber's Hill where they hung the barber
who throttled the barber's wife. Still,
here the bracken shouts, "Prehistory!"
green
mustard
oxide red
russet
the first rust
*
The Dee's a silver will and yammering.
*
Valle Crucis
horsefly cloud
dead trace
corner music
*
Llangollen Mary had a little lamb
but Mary Rhyme was older. Still,
path down is conker strewn
glisten where
the shabby leaves
the shabby leaves
*
human falls: delicate
sky mirror just up
from ferment
white
Stately rapist mallard drakes
go closer to the weir.
*
The clocks askew
*
This many crows are broke charcoal
clattering on rain thick clumps of grass.
*
You'd learn the thing but
never
quiet
enough
quiet
enough
Come down again
to sweet detritus riverside
Majestic poem, Beautiful, clear and moving, like a fluent transparent stream passing over rocks in a Welsh valley.
ReplyDelete"The Dee's a silver will and yammering."
Over here prehistory seems closer every hour, as the children shout, We want more candy!
Thank you, TC.
ReplyDeleteLast week a hoard of them came into a quiet Irish pub I occasionally frequent in Digbeth. The kindhearted barmaid came out with a jar of lollipops and they thrust their hands in, pushing each other aside with unnerving force. The poor girl looked horrified and had to pull the jar away. Prehistory is about right; like the opening scenes of 2001.