Robert Verdon, #322, unknown unknown
behind the familiar
mountain
in a hollow you have
never frequented
a crowded slope
darkens
a host of
young grey gums
reaches upward
mirror-in-mirror
reflections
reflections
reflections
or an endless school
corridor
on your
first day
I have
come here to make friends
but
have made a discovery
on the
edge of town
an echo
of the
edge of the world,
as dragons
weep in fertile shadows
and
light beeswax candles
to
crowd out with creation
that alien, final
hour
Great poem, Robbie. 'an echo of the edge of the world.' Very fine.
ReplyDeleteThanks Rob!
ReplyDelete