village (Remove filter)
Sunday
The pomegranates
are ripe on the tree
across the road
and the swallows
are skimming beneath the power lines
and the soft blue sky
The washing on the balcony rail is dry
The village dogs bark
Church bells summon summer in
and the early morning peace
is broken as a tractor heads for the fields
The sun heats the soft grey
feathers on the pigeon’s back
and he leaves his chimney perch
abo...
Sunday 15th September 2019 7:13 am
Forvie, March 2017
Dunes...
And then the sand flowed like the tide
Shifting the land at the wave edge of the sea
A vast striated plane of drifting whirling grains:
Aged dunes lost to the wail will of the wind.
As we walked close by the sea suck and ripple
The bound beach rose and swallowed our grounded feet
We seemed to be free floating sand cloud high
In the sandsmoke drifts rushing to their...
Tuesday 12th December 2017 3:17 pm
Recent Comments
Auracle on EVEN THE OLIVES WERE BLEEDING
31 minutes ago
Red Brick Keshner on ashes from your urn
54 minutes ago
David RL Moore on ashes from your urn
1 hour ago
David RL Moore on War in Season
1 hour ago
Stephen Gospage on MEALS ON WHEELS
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Donkey Jacket
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on EVEN THE OLIVES WERE BLEEDING
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
2 hours ago
Pragya Pal on Why not
6 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on Nothing Has Changed
9 hours ago