Grit under nails
and worms in the wood
hewn into armchairs.
Worms that are not worms;
thin steely wire threads.
Willow banding
trains. Rains that persist.
A stream cleaves
in two the leafy green.
In the canal, a swan
tries to choke itself with mooring.
YOU ARE READING
Fields of Asphodel
PoetryA poetry collection inspired by mythology, nature, and poetry itself. The style will be a bit different to what I wrote for Clockwork Lives, but I feel personally that it is an improvement. :)
