Dust |
In the hedgerows Cackles, honks and rustles Bushes bustle In the sunlight skin cracks dry I watch, observe There's none can hustle me Turn me from contemplation Burst open an emotion Motion me from perch to air Control me, fashion me... I am this shadow Moving with the sun I am at one The dust thrown up by breeze And parking cars Spreads over me A mould I make no move to shake it off. Morgal (16/8/95) |
Poems copyright Morgal. Page put together by and copyright of Yobunny, 2000. Updated 2006