Sunday, 17 April 2016

A Morning Song

Black and blue, silver green and grey
ripple upon ripple running away.
Stone and boulder, one on another
a head as they say
firmly on his shoulder.

And the wind blows through the shadows, 
shades cast by clouds
twisted trees, 
lone crows
ragged leaves

over the black, blue 
silver green and grey
ripple upon ripple 
running away.

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