24/11/2012
at the halt of the treeline
that darkens the crumbling
stone into leaf mould.
Ivy choked stumps reach up
from the thorned net
of brambling snares that catch
rabbits and leverets and walkers.
The city is nowhere to here,
it's another turn and stile
that goes deep into sludge piles,
another puddle to drown in.
No comments:
Post a Comment