Wednesday, 9 October 2013

Spider Webs Shroud Your Lamps

Oh, the green-eyed apple girl, her white house
surrounded by fields of blood-red poppies.
Now, as far as I know, she spins silver,
hammers copper.

Rain on the pane in bluish-transparent worms.

Valley forms a bowl of cropped-grass.
Mountain ash on the ridge in full orange berry.
Feathery leaves, Zen-like in their pared down simplicity.

I set out for the school house.
Cast off card boards the windows
to collect dust and ancient webs,
the bodies of bluebottles all husks
and hollows.

Spider webs shroud your lamps. Shadows ride the water.

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