Saturday, December 26, 2015

bothand?

what is that sadness deep within
the near to tears like raindrops
not running over into the abyss
but rising from it to spead along the plain

it's like lying on your back in the half lit autumn day
immersed cozy and warm beneath a quilt of fallen leaves
so weighted and protective

is it a preparation for a funeral pyre
the quiet burning
or some other returning to the earth
a fertility to an open ground
a source of something
a source to something

so not quite sure 

and whose are those voices singing from behind the trees
olly olly in free
olly olly in free