'
overhead whistling
quietly the gap
in a rook's wing
until the apple
blossoms the lichen
on next door's roof
in its grave
gently stroking the hare's fur
november winds
city heat
from the grassed reservoir
a twister of hay
paper bark birches
she lets each page
flutter down
dusk freezes
by the old bridge
caught in weeds
the waning moon
overnight snow
circling the house
each pause of the hare
evening mist
gunshots echo
through dead elms
full moon
barn owl's face
every quarter
beach hut washed
away by the cliff
china neatly stacked
snow outside
drifting inside
fragrance of jonquils
back of the drawer
wild barley seeds
in last summer's socks
.
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
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