Tuesday, 4 August 2009
Here's that poem I've been working on - please let me know what you think!
At this rockswell,
Crowned with jagged brambles,
The earth secretly breathes.
You can hear sighs from stacked rock
While creaking ferns point back
To worn beaten track.
The earth is thin here.
Creature-calls and rustles mark time
For the bandits peering at us from the sky;
A mosaic in green,
Where birds stand, hiding,
Hoping to swoop at any new invasion.
Up there, a world of leaning leaf,
Treetops blown outward by buckets of air,
Pressurized by staring stones below.
Dry grass sat there on rocks
Shaking slightly, in the confrontation
Between the air and myself.