Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Stuart Rawlinson #52 - Undersong

The ground, though frozen
Vibrates at a frequency
Hard to discern
To tune in to

You hold your breath
For the harmonic, synchronous
On the field's longing tongue
Drawn in a wave by the
Swallows' sky sweeps

Each season in microcosm
Rises and sleeps
The song plays on

The song plays on


  1. Stuart this is simple and sweeps me into a lovely holding spell sort of space. Nice.


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