Tuesday, 24 July 2012

Fennel Phone

Her paper breath all piney with tombs
fills this phone of fennel coloured plastic.
Sets her thoughts pouncing on waters.

Greenish crystals sparkling in the roads
filling the knowing of moment,
the knowing of movement.

2 comments:

  1. Her paper breath all piney with tombs
    fills this phone of fennel coloured plastic.

    ___

    Those lines do for me everything poetry was once promised to do -- that is, engage, activate and re-charge with wonder that all but lost faculty, the Imagination.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Tom. It's been a beautiful day, and this comment makes me smile like the sun.

      Delete

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