Poem Nº three

The Silent Cry

Sputter, stop, quip, and stutter

Roaring, raining, spitting mist

Granite stained by straining freeflows

Backs the veil of reigning royals

Upper crown of tumult toils

Till Winter pulls into her throes

Dripping, frozen, hastened frist

Pend Spring an icy mutter

Sun and heat and time return

Spray upon the alter dashes

Season’s teeth upon her gnashes

Form to function churn again

 
Previous
Previous

Liminal spaces

Next
Next

Ilford XP2 recipe for Fuji cameras